Capitol Punishment
by Lifeoflemoon
Summary: Daniel Christopher Washington was getting curious. He was now 203 years old, and he kind of wanted to know why. He's beginning to hear of others like him, and he's questioning what is his real purpose for living so long. After reading a book, he realizes there are some people he needs to meet and connections to make. But it's not gonna be easy. He's in line for Capital Punishment.
1. Up to present

Capital Punishment

1st story ever!

(I don't own Hetalia, rights belong to the Creators and writers)

Daniel Christopher Washington didn't feel old. At least not yet, but he'd already been through 200 some years and he'd figured he'd should at least be having back pain. But for some reason or another he still couldn't even buy cigarettes. Which wasn't a bad thing, Daniel hated drugs and was always looking to make sure that people followed the laws and the FDA. But this meant that physically, he was not any older than 17 years.

Daniel was born 1814 in Washington D.C.

He doesn't remember the beginning, but from what he has read in the capitols archives, it was like he was born out of the ashes of the razed grounds. Found by rebuilders, he was given to a nearby family and a politician by the name of Samuel Smith who gave him the name Daniel Christopher. Word soon spread of the ashes baby and Daniel was given to the capitol, declared to be the symbolic child of the rebirth of Washington D.C.

If only they knew just how spot on they were…

But they must have known that he was special, Daniel figured, when his growth corresponded with the building of Washington. They must have known something, when they gave him the last name Washington, even though he had no connected relation to the first president of the United States. Those senators and house representatives must have known something, when he was declared a national secret 40 years later. Of course, by this time he had known something, when he should be 40 years old and not somewhere around 12 years.

He didn't know what to do, not when he's 12 and has everything he's ever wanted and needed. He had food, shelter, a set of wooden horses to play with when he's particularly bored, and he could just about ask for anything and they would provide it for him. But he wasn't allowed to be free. He was forbidden, by act of congress, to leave or travel outside of the capital. He was to be forever trapped with the company of old white men.

And by 1860, those men started to argue, and young Daniel was scared. He didn't want those men to fight. Couldn't they just work out another compromise?

He was restless from 10 years of entrapment, and he was feeling the tension of congresses arguments, like a child watching his parents fight for a divorce. He had to run, away from those violent arguments and into the freedom that he'd been craving. So he left, just as congress seemed to be discussing custody.

West. That's where everyone was going. A destiny that everyone was fulfilling. And Daniel wanted to be part of it. A wild dream of the Wild West for a wild 12 year old pulled him into a wild adventure away from the suffocation at home.

He brought a knife and a bar of gold, and caught caravan to Texas, where the pioneers around him taught him how to survive on the road. He would have gone farther if he hadn't had found a friend. Daniel lost his knife and in his search he enlisted the help of a nearby boy who had been searching for crickets, and together that had succeeded in forgetting about the knife altogether to play ball with a rolled up sock. Young Andrew Harrison was somewhere around Daniel's age, and in return for playing with him, he gave Daniel his own knife and a family. For the next couple of years, the Harrison family welcomed Daniel onto their ranch where he learned to herd cattle on stallions and shoot squirrels off of fence posts. Both of which he was quite good at.

On one of those days at the Harrison ranch he had gotten his first nickname. Danny. Or Dead-eye Danny when he picked up a rifle, and he never felt so at home. For a while.

For the first time since he could remember, he felt as if he didn't have to represent anybody or follow congress around like a lost puppy. He was free. But he was also homesick. There was some kind of pull, a thread connecting him back the capitol, and he knew that one day he would have to return.

Until then, Danny "grew up" with Andrew, or Andy, and celebrated each birthday, and each holiday with the Harrison family. He had a brother, a mother, and a father that wasn't provided for him in Washington, and he wanted to remember what it feels like to have a family for the rest of his life. He wanted to remember when Andy taught him how to ride a horse, he wanted to remember when Mr. Harrison taught him how to skin a snake, and he wanted to remember when Mrs. Harrison taught him how to bake an apple pie. At that point, he still suspected that he would die one day, and he wanted to live to the fullest before he returned to permanent house arrest in Washington.

On Andy's 18th birthday, Danny decided his time was up. The Harrison's, as happy with Danny as they were, knew that Danny wasn't growing like a boy should and were starting to look for ways to accommodate for him. Danny couldn't do that to them. He'd spent 6 good years, Andy was now considered a man, and Danny was now approximately 13. They'd gone too far in age, and now he didn't want them to work hard for a kid who would never grow up. A week after Andy's birthday, Danny left a note and the bar of gold.

When he returned to Washington, congress gave him a new room. One that he wasn't allowed to leave for one month. And then he wasn't allowed to leave the building for two months. The street block for three.

Danny didn't let that get him down. He'd been free, he'd had a family, he'd kept the snakeskin boots, had the pie recipe memorized, and he'd kept Andy's knife. He would never leave home without it.

The next 40 years seem uneventful to him. Sure, industry was booming, cities were growing, and states were annexed, but compared to the 6 years in Texas it seemed as if nothing had changed for him. He'd met a few presidents, Abe Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt so far were his favorites because they shook the ground they walked on and treated him more like a person than a fragile object. Other than that, until the Great War, he kept to himself and studied the books he could get from the library.

The Great War. That really shook the ground. At the time, Danny was 14 and could only watch and hope as the United States entered the war. He helped the effort at home, now able to walk freely around the capitol, he organized labor and gardens for women to support their soldiers overseas. At one point President Wilson asked him for advice, and Danny had never felt as special as that moment when they held a conversation in the White House office.

It was also around this time, when he started hearing rumors about another like him, alive for longer and seemingly more important. But whenever and whomever he asked, they had brushed it off as mere rumor.

After the Great War, the Great Depression was harsh. Danny, of course, had been sheltered through the worst, until Franklin Roosevelt made him realize just how bad the country was suffering. As the New Deal began, Danny made himself a deal. If he could help just one person every day, than he could go to bed happy. He helped more than one person every day, by giving out his meals and working at the local soup kitchen and paying people to wax his shoes. By the Lord, had shiny leather shoes for months.

But if the first was great, than the people will make a sequel, and it will surely suck. Bringing the country out of a depression was another war, being coined World War II. Danny was horrified, when Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japanese planes, and felt that neutrality wasn't enough anymore. Only 15 years old, he couldn't join the fight, but damn, if he didn't make the best damn victory garden ever, than he would never know who did.

Again, Danny heard rumors of the other one like him, and he had seemed to have joined the fight overseas in Europe. This time Danny got a name. Jones. But it was a slip, and the politician he'd gotten it from quickly zipped his lips.

Through then on, through the end of the war, through the Cold war (he was now terrified of communists), and the next couple of presidents, Danny changed his game. FDR was a great inspiration, a man that Danny had confided in and had bonded with in that they were both in some way trapped, whether by polio or law, and if FDR could lead a country through the Depression and the War, than Danny could lead the capitol. Well, sort of.

Danny decided to be a leader differently. If he was a lap dog to congress, than he would rather find a way to be involved in his community, the Washington that he has been with for decades. At this point, he was no longer sure if he was going to die, so he might as well use his time productively by being a good man in a good country.

He started by boosting the economy. By getting a job at a local coffee shop.

Of course, that's not all he did, he lead community events, personally supervised a local theater club, and worked at a homeless shelter, but he couldn't help but love the aesthetic of a coffee shop. The place was warm, the employees knew him well, and the owner was a lovely woman breaking stereotypes by running a business that she was quite good at. Years later, after she found a husband, had a family, and grew into old age, he confided in her his secret that he was somewhat immortal. He was now 16, it was the start of the 1970's, and he felt that he needed a new face to open up to. In her will, she wrote that he could work for her family business as long as he wanted.

Come into the 1980's, Danny realized that he had forgotten something. The Jones guy that was supposedly like him. Now he had a purpose; find out more about this guy. He turned to books, searching through archives and letters, but the most he got in his search was a notice to Jones from some guy in Britain that he didn't pay his tab and was an asshole for leaving this guy the bill. Danny enjoyed reading that.

But he did find a book, just not what he was looking for. While meandering around a bookshop in downtown Washington, Danny came upon another piece of writing from some guy in Britain, but it seemed to be a realistic fiction. A book, _How to be an effective Capitol_ by Landon (London) King. A book that Danny recognized himself in. A book that changed his life forever.


	2. Letter

Capital Punishment

Chapter 1

 _Signs of being a capitol include:_

 _Headaches during political disputes_

Man, did Danny know what that was like. Ever since this last election, he hasn't gotten a good night's rest and was beginning to feel nauseous every time congress went into session.

But he could deal, he's done it before and just because he wants to curl up in a blanket and cry whenever this new prez opens his mouth doesn't mean he has an excuse to skip work.

Danny was on break, sipping a nice cup of Starbucks mocha and annotating King's book for the second time since 1984. After he found it, he promised himself that he wouldn't freak and give it some time before coming to any real conclusions. He thought of himself as a logical thinker, and he wanted to keep it that way.

But even reading through it again in 2017, it only confirmed his thoughts that this was a real possibility. It was time to do something about it, especially since Mr. President was fucking up his Zen time. Danny was desperate for some relief or guidance, and for some reason a mocha grande wasn't cutting it anymore.

"Hey Dan! Breaks up! We need ya for the rush!" Yelled Samuel, from behind the counter.

"Yeah bro, I got you!"

Danny closed his book and stood up, finishing in his cup to jog back to his bag and put the book away for later. He'd made up his mind, and after work today, he was going to write Mr. King a letter. Not an email, a call, or whatever the internet was doing these days, but an old fashion letter. They felt more personal and congress couldn't read those if he sent them from the post office. That and he really wanted to write a letter again. He was feeling nostalgic for a more stable era.

"Man Dan, you can finish a Grande in seconds, I'm impressed."

"It's a gift." And the afternoon rush began.

* * *

 _A country feels a natural instinct to protect or support his or her capitol._

Wouldn't that be nice, Danny thought, somebody to pick him up when fell from sudden faintness after a failed congressional vote.

He sat on his bed, triple checking to make sure it all added up.

 _Countries are especially protective of their capitols in times of war, because being able catch a capitol is tantamount to surrendering to the enemy._

Well thank God nobody is trying to invade the U.S. or catch me—oh wait.

Beginning in 1995, there had been at least seven accounts of masked men trying to manhandle him into a black vehicle. Whatever that was about, Danny didn't know, but the Secret Service now keeps an agent or two on Danny's back to make sure he isn't grabbed again without back up. And he has gotten quite good at keeping both the masked men and the Secret Service off his trail to enjoy his privacy.

 _Most countries try to keep the human names of their capitols a secret. Allowing another country to meet a capitol in person is often viewed as a rare act of trust and alliance. I have only met three other countries (not including his brothers) in my hundreds of years of service._

Huh. Interesting. Danny didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't even know his own country, so he really couldn't relate. Anyway, it's letter time!

Danny shuffled in his American flag blanket over to his desk, turned on the light, pulled out his favorite blue pen, and started to write in his best handwriting. He wanted to make a good first impression on the British guy.

 _Dear Mr. King,_

 _I am writing to inform you—_

Aw scrap it, Imma be me.

 _Dear Mr. King,_

 _My name in Daniel C. Washington, and I have a proposition for you. First off, I love your writing. It's really British (not an insult) and I loved your rampant rants about how appropriate times to show up for tea. I especially enjoy the fact that you're not afraid to be salty. The amount of salt in your writing should be illegal. And second, I need your help. I read your book back in 1984, and it seems that your ideas have really hit me home. I've been alive for 203 years and I've wanted to know why, and I think that I may be a capitol. But before I believe it myself, I actually would rather you confirm it for me. I don't want to assume anything and I hope that it won't be a bother, but in the light of the past election, I haven't been able to function very well and I'm beginning to feel desperate for some help. I've read in your book that a country can take away some pressure from a capitol naturally by being close, but before I meet him (or her, I don't really know), if I meet him, I want to confirm the reason of my existence. You might be wondering, why haven't I talked to my government about this? They should be the ones to ask. You would be right, but they won't tell me anything. I've tried, but by law or act or whatever, they are keeping this information from me. I have no knowledge whatsoever of anything related to countries and capitols other than what I learned in your book. Which was enlightening by the way. However, what my government will tell is that I am not allowed to leave, the Washington area or the country, and they can keep me in my room underneath the capitol if they see fit, which has made me quite adept at sneaking out. And just recently, when some agents found me snooping around the archives, they have forbidden me to look for information on my country, like they don't want me to meet him. Is that not strange? For some citizen of Washington D.C. to have all these restrictions? But even I know that I am not just some citizen. I may be 17, but I have seen more than any other man in the area and have had presidents consult me for advice, so in some way I must be special. I think. So will you help me Mr. King? I really need some help now more than ever. I don't want to fall apart…_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Daniel Christopher Washington._

 _P.S. If you wish to reply, please send it to the Starbucks on Pennsylvania Ave. with the name Rachel Jackson and the words "To a person of interest." She will get the letter to me without the Feds going through my mail._

Danny sighed. Good enough, a little emotional and desperate, but it was 3 in the morning and he was just about ready to fall over. He might actually get some sleep tonight. What a relief.


	3. Landon, London, King

Capital Punishment

Chapter 2

Landon

This was the first time Landon has ever gotten a letter from a fan about that book. He'd typed that up when he was bored in the mid-seventies, but he didn't think that he would ever receive something like this. Damn his curiosity, he wanted to know if this was true. Did his book accidentally find a possible capitol? Of the United States? That is a momentous claim, but this lad wasn't claiming it, instead he was asking if Landon could prove it. Of course Landon wanted to prove it, if he finds the capitol of America before the country himself, this could be great publicity to London—oh but he can't do that. Not to America.

This boy is a capitol, and capitols are supposed to be protected. Most countries just assumed that America had a capital representative and was just very good at protecting him or her. But Landon knew the truth, and so did Canada, England, and France. America hasn't seen his capital since the war of 1812.

If London has found Washington D.C. then America should be the first to know and quietly. He doesn't want to put this boy in any danger of another country taking advantage of an unknowledgeable young capitol. Then he would be putting the whole country in danger, and Landon couldn't do that to America. He felt as if he owed the U.S. for helping him out of the Blitz.

But that's only if the lad really is a capitol. It could be a trap to catch the capitol of England, and that would be absolutely awful. Then he would be the one in danger, and Landon wanted safety first, but his curiosity was certainly coming in close second. He also wanted to leave no stone unturned.

This Daniel had sounded so sincere in his letter, like he had been mulling these feelings over for a while, and some criminal would have to be really creative and educated about the topics of countries and capitols to come up with something so telling. He also sounded so sad. It angered Landon, if this lad was really a capitol and his government was keeping him away from America, then they were the real criminals here. The bond between capitol and country is sacred, a friendship that lasts for ages, and it certainly should not be obstructed by human intervention. It's almost sacrilege. Landon couldn't imagine the pressure Daniel must have been feeling throughout the ages without a country to relieve some of it.

A capitol was a safeguard. A buffer between the tremendous tension of a ruling body and the country. Representing an entire country, the land, the people, the economy, and the personality, was already hard enough for a country personification. Holding up an entire system of government, the politicians, the leaders, the political parties, the policy, the organization, the tension was often too much for a country to handle. So when nations became too complex, capitols started to appear. But capitols were weaker, and a country has the ability to relieve the pressure that a government can have them, just as a capitol has the ability to relieve the pressure that the people had on the nation. It allows them both to think clearer, and it gives them a friend to depend on when they need one the most. But it's also a responsibility for a nation, like protecting a charge or an apprentice. This also changed the nature of war, but that's another matter altogether.

London has a very good relationship with England. They love the same food, tea, and sense of humor. As close friends, they often consult for advice each other on serious issues, or even good literature. They certainly love to exchange wit, because they both believe that a good argument is great exercise for the brain and it's always good to have a new insult on hand to be stored for an emergency. London is proud to say that England has used a few of his insults on France.

So for Washington to have missed out on such a friendship with America for two centuries was very disheartening, and London felt for the poor lad. And he wanted to do something about it.

But should he tell England?

Even if he told England he wanted to go to America to research something, there is a big possibility that England wouldn't let him go. Allowing a capitol to leave a country, in any case, was a huge liability that many countries didn't allow. Also, he wasn't sure how comfortable he'd feel if he told England about Washington before he told America. He still couldn't even know if this Daniel was Washington until he could meet him.

Landon also kind of wanted to do this for himself and help guide Daniel, just like England had done with America before his independence. He'd always wanted a student, and he wanted to satisfy his curiosity for this mysterious case. It was almost like a mystery, and Landon was a die-hard Sherlock fan. Who knows, maybe he'd get a Watson out of this.

So no, for once, he wouldn't consult England on this. He was going to the U.S.A.

 _To a person of interest,_

 _I am coming to meet you. I already have a reservation in a hotel downtown, and a flight to the States. I will meet you at that Starbucks on Pennsylvania Ave. on Thursday at 13:00. Get excited and a cup of tea._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Landon King_

Danny laughed. Ha. Like I'd buy a Brit some tea.

But he would because he was raised to be diplomatic, and he was actually kind of curious to see a real live Englishman drink tea.

And Danny was already excited. Somebody was coming to see him. Somebody wanted to see him. Somebody actually _wanted_ to _meet_ him. He wanted to plan a day. Like a play date. He hadn't had a play date since Andy. What should he do? What do the British like to do? Would he want a tour of Washington?

Yes, that's what they could do together. Danny was sure that Mr. King had never been through the area, and he wanted to show off his home. It's pretty enough, and it's usually a nice walk when there isn't anything political happening. Then they could have lunch, or run around the national mall, or see the Smithsonian's, or—

Danny took a deep breath and sat up on his star spangled bed. This wasn't just a walk in the park, this was an investigation. He needed to be serious here. That and he read on the internet that the English don't like showing emotion. Maybe he could use that as a goal. Make the guy smile? Yes, that sounds nice. A fun day and a smile.

Wait, wait, wait. Serious here. He doesn't need to make people smile—yes he does, Danny loves to make people smile. But he also needs to figure out who he is, and Mr. King is going to help him.

He took out his phone and texted Rachel, his boss at Starbucks, telling her that he wanted off Thursday to be with a friend from out of country. She was always lenient with him, because she knew that his schedule was unpredictable. He was practically a charity case there, only working because he wanted to have a hand in his community, not because he needed the money. But she knew from her grandmother's will that he was special, and she was always very kind to him, like the older sister he never had.

 ** _Sure thing, Dan the man. Do you want me to provide flowers as well?_**

 _WAT WAT WAT NO WHERE DID YOU GET THAT IDEA_

 ** _LOL you are so cute_**

 _RACHEL WHAT DO YOU MEAN_

 _RACHEL_

 _RACHEL COME BACK_

 _RACHEL_

 _DO NOT BRING FLOWERS_

 ** _What country?_**

 _ENGLAND. THEY ARE EMOTIONALLY REPRESSED FLOWERS ARE NOT A GOOD IDEA_

 ** _Then roses are perfect._**

 _RACHEL DO NOT_

 _RACHEL_

 _GOD DAMN IT RACHEL_

 _ASDFHJKLG_

Danny threw the phone down on his bed. Yeah. Like the older sister he never had.


	4. Starbucks meeting

Capital Punishment

Chapter 3

Danny

Danny looked at himself in the mirror.

Awesome stylish sandy blonde hair. Check.

Contacts over bright blue eyes (he is so blind without them). Check.

Snazzy yet comfortable brown dress jacket over crisp white shirt. Check.

Navy clean cut pants. Check.

THE BEST CONVERSE EVER (stars and stripes y'all). DOUBLE CHECK. If he's going to be walking this guy around town, than he's going to be comfortable.

I LOOK FABULOUS. Danny kept telling himself. In truth, he was kind of nervous. He was meeting the author that changed his life. Or will possibly change his life. And like any diplomat that he has seen, dressing appropriately when meeting important people is a must. But also dress from the feet up, because he knows that if his feet hurt, than his whole day hurts. Either way, capitol or not, he wanted to have fun. And be serious. This was definitely serious.

Danny put on his serious face. And melted. He had a hard time being serious when he was excited. So he texted Rachel again.

 _NO FLOWERS RIGHT?_

 _ **No promises.**_ _ **My lil man gots to make a good impression on his date.**_

 _IT'S NOT A DATE!_

 _RACHEL?_

She wasn't answering. But it did bring his attention away from himself so he could relax. He checked the time. 12:00. He's meeting at 1:00 or 13:00 as Mr. King put it. There was a congressional vote at 2:00. Hopefully nothing too big, so everything will be fine. But he definitely didn't get enough sleep last night, there was something going on at Capitol Hill until the wee hours of the morning, and he'd been sick a couple of times. Not fun.

Allowing himself a squeal, he grabbed his wallet and leapt out of his bunker.

* * *

Landon

Of course I look dashing, I am a bloody beautiful man.

On his way out of the hotel, Landon was ambushed by some American women that asked him where he was from, and they were practical drooling on him when they realized that he was British. After relishing in their compliments, he politely declined any phone numbers and told them that he had a place to be soon so he couldn't possibly stay any longer.

He was wearing a red and gray argyle sweater vest over a white collared shirt, all under tan tweed jacket with a comfortable pair of gray slacks, he looked very appropriate in Washington D.C.

Overall, London looked very much like England. They had the same eyes and brows, but London was actually able to get mild control of his slightly darker hair and cut it shorter.

Now if he could only make it the Starbucks without being attacked by more American women.

* * *

Danny

Danny bounced up and down in his seat. He already bought himself a Caramel Macchiato, had the book on the table, and the Brit's cup of tea. English breakfast. He thought that would be appropriate. Even though it is afternoon—oh my GOD! English breakfast in the afternoon!? Danny froze. Is that wrong? What if he doesn't want it? Should he go make another cup of tea—?

"Dan!"

Halfway out of his seat, he looked up to see Rachel looming over him. She grabbed his shoulders and eased him back down, and sat across from him.

"Man Dan, you look like a ticking time bomb, what's got you so nervous about meeting this guy?" Rachel asked.

Danny looked down at the table. "It's kinda complicated and it's kinda important that this turns out well—hey! You knew it was a guy and you still wanted to bring flowers?"

"Look Dan, just be yourself, nobody can get upset with that cute widdle face," she pinched his cheeks, ignoring his question. "Alright, what does he look like? Do you know if he's cute?"

Danny halted from slapping away her hands from his cheeks. Head snapped up, he realized that he had no idea what this guy looked like.

"Oh God, I have no clue. What he looks like, not if he's cute. Not that it matters! He's here cause I liked his book and asked to meet him. Wouldn't you want to meet the author of your favorite book? And what if he's like, 40 years old? I can tell ya right now, I've spent my fair share of time with old men and I do not find them attractive."

"Dan."

"This is not a date. This is an outing for investigative purposes. I cannot be distracted in any way shape or form."

"Dan."

"I have to focus. Put on my serious face. And we are going to sit here and look through this book."

"Dan!"

"WHAT."

"You're rambling again, and you already look tired. Caffeine can only do so much. Just take a few deep breaths, and be yourself. Your friend is here to meet you, not somebody else. Okay?" She spit in her hand and fixed his hair. Then she fixed him with a gaze. "You. Are. Fine."

"Okay." He said quietly. She stood up, pulled out a nice vase that held some deep red Tudor roses as a centerpiece, and gave him a grin. His face met the table.

* * *

Landon

Landon walked in the Starbucks and halted. Wait, how is he supposed to recognize this Daniel? He suddenly wished the lad had sent a photograph. He swept his gaze across the shop. What's that kid doing? Sitting alone over there with some nice Tudor roses—What in God's name?!

Landon's jaw dropped. That must be him. He was practically America, just without the glasses and the cowlick, and he had a slightly more modern hairstyle. And it definitely wasn't Canada, or he wouldn't even have seen him there. He started walking over to the table. Now, how should he introduce himself?

* * *

Danny

Danny looked up at the approaching footsteps.

HOLY EYEBROWS BATMAN.

Oh okay, some young looking guy, maybe 20 years of age, with big eyebrows, and jeez did eyes even come in that shade of green? And he's looking right at me.

Danny looked out the window to his side. Is there somebody else that he's looking at—oh hi.

The dude was right next to him when he turned back, and the guy smirked at Danny's roses.

"Are those for me?"

Danny sputtered, before collecting himself and casually saying, "That depends. Is your name Mr. Landon King?"

"That has been my name since the 12th century."

Daaaaaaaamn. Thought Danny. That be OLD.

Mr. King must have noticed his expression or read his thoughts, either way he frowned.

"It's not as old as you think." He said lowly. "Now are you going to invite me to sit down or are we going to have this conversation like a pair of old crows."

Danny just squinted at him. What does that even mean?

Mr. King sighed. He took the seat across from him.

"I see that you are having trouble comprehending the situation. I assure you that this is no ordinary approach to go about capitol business. I am really extending myself to meet you in your person. That being said, my name Landon King, but my real name is London. I am the capitol of England."

The situation was just finally sinking in with Danny.

"No way…" He whispered with wide eyes.

Mr. King chuckled. This was adorable. Daniel looked like a puppy seeing snow for the first time.

"And I assume that you are Daniel C. Washington?"

"oh—oh yeah. That's my name. But everybody calls me Danny. You can call me Danny. You're really from England? That's so cool! You sound so British! Hey, I got you the tea that you asked for. It's English breakfast, because I thought that would be appropriate, even though it's now afternoon, but it should still be hot, cause I even made it in the afternoon—is that okay?"

Mr. King sighed and brought his hand to his temple. He's just like America.

"Yes, that's alright."

This was going to be a long day.


	5. Crossing

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 4

England

England was already tired when he left his hotel room that morning. That may have been because he hadn't had any tea yet today, but it was also because he couldn't get in touch with London. The last time he saw his capitol was three days ago, when he told England that he wanted to be left alone to write another book. At the time, England was just disappointed that London turned down his offer to watch some Doctor Who, but now England never got the chance to tell London that he was going to Washington D.C. a day early to talk with America before their World Meeting. He just hoped that London wasn't too worried about his whereabouts, and that he'd take England's offer to binge watch Doctor Who when he returned from the meeting.

Until then, England was going to make sure he got his cup of tea from the hotel lobby, and take up America's offer to see the Washington area with some of the other countries before the meeting tomorrow.

* * *

Danny

— _where congress will vote soon at 2:00 pm today. Back to you—_

"Damn it!"

The T.V. in the Starbucks was on the news, talking about the vote that afternoon.

"What is it?" Mr. King asked.

"I know there is a vote today, but I keep missing what congress is voting on. I just hope it's nothing big, or that it goes well. I don't want to be sick again." Danny spoke to the table.

"Shouldn't you work harder to know what the government is doing? A capitol should know these things."

"I know, I know, I usually do know, but I was really distracted with the whole 'I have a visitor coming' thing. Doesn't happen often that people come to see me, and I've had to work harder this presidency to sneak out of my room without the Feds knowing I'm gone."

Mr. King looked irritated. "You have to sneak past your government to see your own capitol?"

"Jus' how it's been." Danny said flippantly, "The agents will figure it out sooner or later and come looking for me, but until then, I plan on having a day out doing some self-introspection. Speaking of a day out, would you want a personal tour of Washington, Mr. King?"

Mr. King raised his big brows. Throughout their conversation thus far in the Starbucks, he realized that Daniel often had brief periods where he was very well-spoken and polite, sometimes immediately overshadowed by his overall enthusiastic personality.

"Yes, that would be very nice. And you may call me Landon, if you wish."

"GREAT! This is gonna be so much fun! I've wanted to do something like this for years!" Danny stood up fast, and started talking even faster while heading for the door. "So Landon, I'm gonna show you all around the National mall, Capitol Hill, if you really want cause it will take a while we could see the Smithsonian, oh! Ya gotta see the Lincoln Memorial! That's my favorite cause I loved that guy—!"

Danny caught himself before he ran into the glass door of Starbucks.

"SEE YA DAN THE MAN!" He heard from behind the counter.

"SEE YA RACH!" He yelled back at her loudly.

Landon was starting to feel like this was a bad idea, this lad was going to give him a head-ache. He followed Danny out the door.

* * *

England

"ALRIGHT DUDES. WE GON SEE THE BEST PLACE ON EARTH. MY CAPITOL."

 _Oh good Lord,_ England thought as he brought his hands up to massage his temples. He didn't need to be reminded of how loud America's voice was. He was amongst the small group of nations that opted to go along with America's tour. He looked around him. France (was that Canada next to him?), Russia, Germany with Italy attached to his arm, and Japan.

 _Alright, shouldn't be too bad. Right?_

"YO ARTIE!"

 _Oh bloody hell—_

America materialized next to him and threw his arm over England's shoulders.

"Just you wait to see how AWESOME this place is."

"Oh yes, I'm bloody elated." England deadpanned.

"GREAT. LET'S GET STARTED."

* * *

Danny and Landon were walking down the sidewalk next to Capitol Hill, Danny blurting out random facts about the building and the grounds around it. Everything was going well until he began crossing the street.

Suddenly, mid-cross, black spots started to dot his vision and he felt faint.

"—anny… yo...ight?" He thought he heard Landon somewhere next to him before he started to collapse.

"Daniel!" Landon caught Danny's arm, the lad looking dazed and unresponsive.

 _HONK HONK SCREECH!_

Landon threw Danny's arm over his shoulder and threw them both towards the other sidewalk, just before they could be hit by a swerving yellow taxi.

"BLOODY WANKER WATCH WHERE YOU'RE DRIVING." He yelled at the driver after setting Danny safely on the ground. Then he turned back to Danny. He was conscious, but he looked pale and sweaty.

"Daniel?" Danny wasn't responding. Landon looked at his watch and paled himself. 2:00 pm. The congressional vote. This was no coincidence. Apparently it did not go well. Landon turned to a concerned bystander.

"Excuse me sir? What was congress voting on today?"

The guy looked baffled and surprised. That wasn't the question he'd been expecting.

"Oh, uh, I believe it was Trump's health care plan. I just looked at the news on my phone, I think it was just shot down."

"Thank you sir." It probably wasn't a good plan anyway if it was shot down by both political parties.

"Shouldn't we call an ambulance?" the guy asked.

"Oh no, this happens every once in a while, low blood sugar, that sort of thing. I have something to help him." Landon lied. Danny would be alright, he just needed to collect himself for a bit, and an ambulance wouldn't be able to help.

There was no doubt now, Landon was sure. Daniel Christopher Washington was Washington D.C. He couldn't fake this, not somewhere so unfortunate as crossing a street, where getting hit by traffic was a huge risk. And just as a huge bill was shot down, and the capitols functions would be briefly thrown into chaos as the media told the people and politicians fought the president. Landon needed to tell America, but first he would help Danny. He started by helping Danny sit up, and cradled him in his arms.

"Donny?"

Hold up. _Donny?_ Landon frowned. He looked at Daniel.

"Did you just call me Donny?" Landon asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes?" Danny hazily responded, not completely there yet. "It suits you."

Then Danny started to giggle. "Danny and Donny, partners in crime."

"I thought Americans liked to be the heroes."

"Danny and Donny, the dynamic duo."

Landon shook his head. "I'm not even going to ask. Can you stand up, lad?"

"I think so. Then we can continue the tour!" Danny said, beginning to return to his energetic self. Landon held his arm, and together they were able to get back on their feet.

"Are you sure? That was a pretty hard blow…" Landon was concerned. Without a nation to dull the pain, capitols could really malfunction when the government fought itself. He didn't want to push Danny too hard just for the tour.

"Naw, the government shut down in 2013 was much worse. I'll be fine." Danny suddenly looked around him. "But we shouldn't stay in one place too long after that little stunt. The Feds might find me. Let's continue?"

 _My God._ Landon thought, as he eyed Daniel with newfound admiration. _This boy experienced a shut down without a country by his side. I can't even imagine the pain, his own body must have shut itself down…_

"How 'bout the National Mall?"

"Oh—yes. That sounds lovely. How about we rest there?"

Danny shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

* * *

America

 _You know what? They should see the National Mall._

America smiled. It was such a nice day to take a walk and just take it all in. His Washington. He turned to his little tour group.

"Hey dudes! We're gonna head over to the—ah!" America's step faltered and he nearly tripped. He steadied himself. _What was that?_ He checked the time on his phone.

"American-san, are you aright?" He heard Japan behind him.

"Something wrong, America?" That was England.

"Da, American you look pained." Russia.

It was 2:00 pm. He knew congress was voting today on the Health Care plan. He sighed, it must have failed. He was a little relieved, he kinda liked Obamacare better. That's the plan he was covered on anyway. He put his phone away, and a smile back on his face.

"Naw Dudes, everything's fine, I'm fine, I was just thinking y'all should see the National Mall. Come on guys, let's go." America dramatically pointed in the direction of Mall. "Onward! To the Mall!"

The group marched forward.


	6. The Mall

Capital Punishment

Chapter 5

Danny and Landon were just starting to have a good time. After Danny caught too many concerned looks from Landon on their walk to the National Mall, Danny took out his phone and turned on some Coldplay. _Adventure of a Lifetime_ looped through the sidewalk, as Danny and Landon loudly sang together. They weren't that bad, they were on tune, and some passerby's chipped in a lyric or two. They must have looked like they just got out of wild party.

"I didn't know that you liked Coldplay." Landon said laughing as the song ended.

"Dude, I don't, I just like good music." Danny stated proudly. "Mission accomplished!" He threw his fist up into the air.

"What mission?" Landon questioned.

"Bro! I got you to smile. I'd made myself a goal to make ya smile after I read on the internet that the English are emotionally repressed."

Landon was touched unit he heard that. He scowled.

"BLOODY GIT!"

"Hey ya didn't deny it—" Suddenly Danny jerked his head to look over his shoulder. "Fuck." He whispered when he turned back.

Landon quieted before he could angrily rant at Danny's ignorance. "What is it?"

"Damn Secret service is following us. Namely, me, but I don't want them questioning you just for hanging with me." Danny looked irritated, like this was just an annoyance. He turned to Landon with a serious look. "When we get to that corner with the trees, there is a long street, usually crowded at this time of day, I want you to run. Weaving outside to the trees can be easier if you can't get by people on the sidewalk. We can split up at the Mall, I can distract them there. They are after me anyway. Got it?"

This wasn't the first time Landon experienced a situation like this, and he knew how to follow orders. "Loud and clear."

"Alright. Fist bump!" Danny said very loudly and brought out his fist.

For a second Landon looked confused, Danny was unpredictable at times. He brought up his knuckle. Danny bumped it, and jumped out to strike a very obnoxious victory pose, bringing a lot of attention to themselves. "AW YEAH!" And he broke into a run as they reached the corner.

Landon started to sprint when he realized what Danny had done. _Clever lad._ He'd done the weird bump thing to make it look like a game, almost like tag. Then they wouldn't look as suspicious as they ran down the sidewalk. Not bad, he really needed to give the boy some more credit. But now he needed to focus on weaving through the crowd.

* * *

England

"LOOK HOW AWESOME THIS PLACE IS." America belted as they reached the corner of the mall. He was right next to him, and England restrained himself from covering his ears at the sudden change in volume.

"Oh yes, It is splendid." England managed to get out. Then his attention diverted to a mild disturbance coming down the sidewalk. Some teenagers running, the one in back laughing like a maniac, the other in front deftly focused, both shadowed by some men in suits. England's eyes widened in realization. _Was that—?_

* * *

Landon

"LANDON?!"

Landon just reached the corner of the mall when he turned his head to look at a group of suited men. Clearly international. His green eyes met another pair of green eyes. He nearly panicked.

"ARTHUR?" He blurted before—KASPLOOSH!

Landon tripped over the side of the National Mall, falling face first at full speed into the water. He hadn't been looking where he was running.

"BRIT DUDE!" Danny hopped over the side, sloshed brashly through the water over to Landon to help him stand up. The Secret Service members were just jogging over to wait on the boarders of the man-made lake.

Landon looked over at England, who looked conflicted, smartly fighting the urge to rush over to him.

"ALRIGHT DUDES TOUR'S OVER FOR TODAY. SEE Y'ALL TOMORROW AT THE MEETING." He heard America exclaim loudly at the tour group. Landon saw what appeared to be France and Canada herding the remaining confused countries away from the group, towards town. They didn't want any countries finding out what Landon's connection was to England, because then there was a possibility of endangering the capitol and the country in case war ever passed again. Quick thinking on their part.

"Daniel, sir, you both will have to come with us." Said a Secret Service agent.

Next to him still in the water, Danny deftly slipped something into Landon's hand and spoke up. "No. Unless you're willing to strike a deal. If you want to take this man in for questioning, then I'm going to fight all y'all back to base. But if you're willing to overlook his involvement with me today, then I'll go easy, I won't even argue."

Apparently, his arguing was enough to make the agent pause, and think about the arrangement. The agent knew what Daniel was like when he didn't want to cooperate. Both obsessively annoying, loud, and sometimes violent. The agent subconsciously rubbed his jaw from the fiasco of the last time that Danny had "Argued."

"Alright, but just this once. I realize that times are hard on you, but we cannot allow this to be a regular thing. Come on Daniel." Danny pouted and looked back at Landon, but trudged over glumly through the water over to the agent, who put his hand on Danny's shoulder to lead him away.

Landon left the water. By this time, France and Canada had effectively herded the other nations away, and only America and England were waiting for him on dry land.

First England turned to America. "What the bloody hell was that?"

America looked confused and suspicious. "I have no idea. I have never seen that kid before in my life." He turned to Landon, who was standing sheepishly in front of England. "What were you even doing?"

England cut in. "He can tell you later, first he is coming with me back to my hotel to have a nice chat."

Landon knew for certain that this chat would be anything but nice. He nodded to England. He knew that England wanted to be the first to know what Landon was doing, so he could decide what information was important for America to know. National Security and all that.

It was getting late anyway, the sun was starting to set. Time started to fly for Danny and him once they started to have a good time.

"Okay… but I'm coming over to meet you guys before the meeting starts so you can tell me what's up." America said a little apprehensively. He felt he had the right to know what London was doing in his country, but he trusted them well enough to get their shit together before giving him the details. America could tell that England was just as surprised as he was to see London in the National Mall. He started away, facing England and London, pointing at them with both hands. "CATCH YOU DUDES LATER."

England turned to Landon with hands on his hips, giving him the disapproving parent look. Landon looked away.

"Let's just get on with it." He started walking towards town, England at his shoulder.

"I'll give you choice. Tell me now or tomorrow morn, because this whole ordeal has given me an awful head-ache, and you look like you need to gather your thoughts." England grounded out, with his hand rubbing his temples.

"Tomorrow." Landon said right away. His body seemed to just catch up with him. He was tired and wet, he stared numbly at the ground. His thoughts turned to Danny. _Poor boy…_ _he doesn't have anybody… well, at least that means he's not going to be getting anything like England's lecture. But at this point, I think that he would prefer it to sitting lonesome, there's nobody to tell him what he was doing wrong._ Landon suddenly turned to look at England.

"Thanks for worrying about me."

England sputtered, not prepared for anything like that. But then he looked closely at London's expression. A mix of pity and appreciation. Their conversation in the morning was going to be an interesting one. England softened his face.

"You're one of my best friends. Somebody who truly understands me. I'd be silly to let anything happen to that." He put his hand on London's shoulder. "But I also need you to trust me. I want to hear what has suddenly brought this up. I am starting to worry about you."

"I'm not the one you should be worried about." London turned away. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow." _Oh God, I am so thankful to have a friendship like this, I had never even thought about what it would have been like if I didn't have England._ These thoughts were certainly disheartening.

 _This is what Danny—no Washington D.C.—needs. A friendship like this with America._ Landon wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve. He must still be wet from the dip in the Mall. _And he's missed out on all these years._ Landon suddenly found himself angry. _All because of his bloody government, why is that? I haven't heard of imprisoning a capitol from a country since Berlin, but that was different. They had better have a bloody good reason. I have to stop this._

Landon looked forward with new determination. _I have to help Washington._

Landon suddenly remembered what Danny snuck into his hand. Still walking, he unwrapped the piece of paper. A phone number.

* * *

Danny

Danny looked up at his star covered ceiling from his star spangled bed. Locked in again. Not too bad. He would just sneak out again. And he'd do it again in a heartbeat. Today was one of the best days of his life, up among the days that he'd spent with Andy on the Harrison ranch. He turned on his side and smiled at his Goldfish, Link. Short for Lincoln, one his favorite presidents, and Danny was a Legend of Zelda fan. He loved video games. Link stared back him.

"Today was great, don't you think? I think I made a new friend." The fish didn't respond.

"Yeah, I'd wanna to do it again tomorrow."

Danny's phone buzzed. He practically kicked it off his bed trying to jump at it. He held it to his face.

 _ **Tomorrow?**_

Danny was now convinced that Landon was a mind-reader.


	7. The morning

Capital Punishment

Chapter 6

Knocking woke Danny up that morning. Groggily, Danny lifted himself off the bed, and wrapped himself in his star spangled blanket and began his trudge towards the door. Danny gave his fish a drowsy glance as he put his hand on the knob.  
"Next time, Link, you get the door." The fish seemed to just squint at him.

"Yeah, I know you heard me." Danny said as he opened the door. Oh what a surprise. Mail.

"This is for Washington D.C.? Huh, it just has this door number. Here you go, sir." Said the bright eyed mailman.

At first, Danny just stared at the letter being handed to him like he was being handed a rattle snake. Confused and apprehensive. _Washington D.C…?_ His brain did not compute.

"Sir?" The mailman jerked the letter towards him. Danny jumped.

"Oh, uh, sorry, yes, uh, thank you, sir." Danny grabbed the letter, shut the door, and hopped back on his bed. The hell is this about? His name on a letter? He wasn't even sure if it was his name, he'd only ever discussed this with Landon, who else would know? Danny cocooned himself in his blankets and used his phone as a light to open the letter. Strange. The envelope was recent, but the letter was dated 1854. That was when he'd been declared a national secret.

 _ **To Washington D.C.**_

 _ **In the light that it would inevitable that you eventually realize the true nature of your existence, I thought it appropriate that you know the reason of which that Congress has withheld this information from you and the country of America.**_

Danny groaned, he hated how people wrote back in the 1800's. All flowery and confusing, they should just get to point, it would be quicker. Maybe that's why it was easier to be illiterate back then, the educated had to learn to write like goddamn Shakespeare.

 _ **I will have you know that I am writing you this letter without the knowledge of congress, as the other congressmen do not think that it will be necessary for your future. This letter is only for when you realize that you are the Capitol.**_

Daaaaaaaaamn, Daniel thought, I be right.

 _ **Only for when the government of the future deems it to be essential or for when you begin to search for your country, I have arranged for them to give you this letter.**_

Danny froze. What? How would they know? He only talked to Landon, and when he searched the archives in the past, he never told them that he was specifically searching for America. Wait. Could it have been the Secret Service? Did they recognize America yesterday when he didn't? Danny cursed. America was probably in that tour group that yelled at Landon.

"UGH. I WAS SO CLOSE." He yelled at the letter, as if the letter would sympathize with his misgivings.

So the Secret Service must have told congress, and they gave him the letter. STUPID DAMN LETTER—

 _ **Why is it that congress has not allowed for America to care for you? It is because congress does not believe that he can. In the war of 1812, Washington died. America was not able to protect him. Congress does not believe that he can protect you.**_

Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. Oh my God. What a bombshell. He suddenly felt sick, but it wasn't because of a vote this time. Washington died. He was the replacement. The replacement that America never knew about.

 _ **He is too immature, impressionable, and irresponsible. In that respect, Congress has chosen to use its authority to protect you and has taken you into custody, and they do not want America's interference. They have forbidden you to meet him, and they will not divulge to him the knowledge of your existence.**_

Danny was suddenly seeing a pattern. Why did this look like a divorce? _Oh America, you cannot possibly protect our poor boy, you have already lost the first. You are forbidden to see him ever again. He is in our custody now._ Danny chuckled as he imagined that of an overly dramatic woman, lavishly throwing up her arm as if to shield her head from the thought. But wait, this was serious. He searched the words again. Forbidden to meet him? Well that's some grade A bullshit right there. Danny stared down the letter, seemingly to put it in its place. This 19th century asshole congress can't tell him what to do. They obviously didn't suspect that some sentient circus peanut like Trump would ever get the presidency. He was literally passing out from the conflict, he needed the relief of having a country to pick him up when he fell apart.

 _ **I hope that you will see reason. I do not completely agree with congresses arrangements, but I do understand their concerns. If you ever do meet America, I hope that it will be because you are not given a choice. I dread the day of such an occurrence, but there is already an impending conflict over slavery, so I believe that it may be sooner than I would like. If you ever do meet America, please Daniel, be aware of that he might not be able to care for you as we have.**_

There was no name. Well he never did meet America during the Civil War. Danny ran, away to the Harrison Ranch _ **.**_ Wow way to make Danny nervous about meeting America. _Care for me?_ They apparently thought that Danny liked to suffocate in the company of old white men. They never understood him, which was why he went to Ranch in the first place. What Danny needed was a friend, not to be coddled. This was the land of the fucking free, and congress tried to cage in its own Capitol because it knew "what was best for him." Danny had been nearly as old as all of those congressmen, even if he hadn't appeared that way, they could not possibly have known what it was that he had truly needed. His country.

Danny put down the letter. He was going out to meet Landon, and if he wanted to meet him in the afternoon, he should start his escape sooner rather than later. If he had to sneak pass the Feds like Goddamn Batman, than give him a cape. He was his own hero here. Danny smiled sadly at the thought.

He just wanted a partner.

* * *

Landon

Landon awoke to his covers being aggressively torn off his body. He scowled and deeply regretted changing his hotel to room with England. He also briefly wondered what the aggravated assault charges were in America.

"Talk. Now." He practically could hear England's frown from the end of the bed. London sat up.

"A cuppa tea first?" London tried. England faltered, and came to agree.

"Fine, but then we get down to business. I don't know when America will be over, you know he's sporadic like that."

Oh yeah. Landon had nearly forgotten. They would be getting an energetic American his morning. Maybe then he could tell America, but damn—he would probably have to tell England first. Landon rubbed the drowsiness his eyes. He was meeting Danny again at the Starbucks before the world meeting starts for England. But for now, he was meeting with a cup of tea.

* * *

Danny

Danny was on his way to the Starbucks later that morning, the letter folded neatly next to Andy's Knife. He'd successfully snuck past the Feds like all the times before. This time, he had imagined himself in all black, like Batman, sneaking through the halls of the base where his room was located. Danny smirked to himself, getting a few questioning stares from some strangers. _Oh yeah, I'm a fucking NINJA. I'm SO good at this._ Suddenly he felt a shiver go down his spine. He looked over his shoulder. Men in all black, maybe half a block back, were stalking him like pack of wolves. Danny swallowed nervously. They weren't wearing suits. They weren't the Secret Service. _Aw fuck…_ He pulled out his phone to call Landon.

Looks like he might be needing those ninja skills.


	8. Just a run

Capitol punishment

Chapter 7

"Alright, you've had your tea, now talk." England got straight to the point.

London narrowed his eyes at England from over the rim of his cup in the middle of sipping his tea, and he probably spent a bit too long swallowing before delicately setting his cup down. England was pushing him and he still wasn't sure how to bring up the capitol topic, sitting at the little table in their hotel room. America deserves to know first, but England wasn't going to let him talk until he knew the whole story. How do you do go about this? _I may have accidentally discovered America's capitol, because oh, I wrote a book about it even though we are kept a secret so he wrote me a letter and I flew over without your permission…_ That probably wouldn't go ever well. He put his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands before taking a deep breath. From the other side of table, England spoke up again in almost the same position with his hands on his temples before London could open his mouth.

"At least, London," he drew out his words, "tell me what exactly you were doing running around freely in Washington D.C."

That was an easier question to avoid. "I was enjoying a personal tour given to me by a nice young man. He was rather delighted to have company, and I couldn't turn him down."

England snapped up quickly. "Would you stop being so vague? You've been like this since last night! I really need to know what's going on here and you're giving me nothing! Why were you, _and your friend_ , being followed so adamantly by America's Secret Service?!" He was beginning to talk with his hands.

London brought his head closer to the table. England must be drawn tight to react so quickly and negatively to his statement, London had to pick his answers more carefully if he wanted this to be a less stressful conversation.

"Well… they weren't following me, I assure you, and they were after him—"

"And who, exactly, was he?" England asked lowly. London has known England long enough to figure out that he was trying to weasel closer to the information that London was trying not to disclose.

Meanwhile, England was getting distraught and angry, but was trying to keep it together. London was hiding something from him, and that's never happened before. London didn't trust him right now to be open with him, and England realized that this fact _hurt._ But he had to know, for his national security and for his closest friend. He was worried.

"It's complicated, you see, he read my book that I wrote about being a capitol—it was not meant to be taken seriously, it was supposed to be a realistic fiction," London had to clarify at England's dangerously raised brows, "And this boy was a fan who wanted to meet me, so he wrote me a very nice letter asking to meet me—" England interrupted him again. With his arms and legs crossed, he suddenly looked imposing and disciplined.

"Where is this letter?"

 _Oh dear God, I can't have him read it._ "I don't have it with me, and it was very personal, so I would prefer if I keep it between him and me." London said carefully, sitting up straight to combat England's imposing figure.

"Alright, continue." England was nice to let him go with that one. "Why was it so important for you, the _capitol_ of Great Britain, to meet him?"

He was getting into dangerous territory. London was trying to squeeze around England's questions, but he was losing ground and he was getting nervous. He floundered trying to answer quickly.

"Well, uh, it's very complicated, he has a certain condition and I couldn't possibly—"

England broke. He stood up so fast that his chair fell back with a thump.

"WHAT CONDITION IS IMPORTANT ENOUGH FOR YOU TO LEAVE WITHOUT TELLING ME?"

London stood up to meet him.

"HE'S AMERICA'S CAPITOL, THAT'S WHAT."

Silence. The door squeaked to their left. America was standing in the doorway with his hand still on the knob, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses, and his mouth slightly ajar.

 _Oh dear,_ London thought.

Then something occurred to England.

"How did you get in here?"

America's response was too quiet, but said very clearly.

"I asked the lady at the front desk, said I was a friend and showed her I worked for the government." America held up his badge and I.D. to show England and London.

But the moment was broken when London's phone rang on the table. He'd already forgotten it was there. Daniel's name was on the I.D. _Speak of the Devil,_ London thought bitterly.

"Oh hold on a moment please," London picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Yo, broski, yeah, I'm gonna have to cancel that meeting with you today, something came up." Daniel sounded hurried and short of breath, London started to worry.

"Wot? Why? Is something the matter?" Suddenly he felt the stares of both England and America, who were now listening intently.

Danny let out a nervous laugh, "Yeah, um, I'm being followed by some strange men in black, and I don't want you with me."

"Are you sure that you're not just being paranoid? Is it just the secret service again?" London huffed, and sat back down at the table. He felt their stares harden on him. They picked up on that information real quick and realized that whoever was on the phone may just be the object of their conversation, the capitol of the United States of America.

London was startled by Danny's answer. "No! I mean, yeah sure, it's not like I walked an extra block or two, in a circle, and watched them follow me for two miles on the same three streets," Danny's voice seemed to darken, "I would know if they were the Secret Service, I've been doing this for years, and this isn't the first time I've had these men on my tail."

"WHAT? YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU'VE BEEN FOLLOWED BY STRANGE MEN BEFORE?" London was almost outraged, Danny was a capitol and didn't seem to know the drastic consequences if he was ever caught by terrorists or enemies. If these men didn't hurt Daniel, then Landon sure will after all this was done. He really needed to find out what those aggravated assault charges were.

"Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that?" Danny's voice returned to bubbly and nonchalant.

England tapped London on his right shoulder, his gaze serious. "Put it on speaker." America was at his left shoulder, and London felt cornered. He didn't want to, but he complied.

Danny's casual voice came into the room. "I think it started in the 90's, these assholes in black keep trying to kidnap me, and I'm just like, 'Isn't that illegal?' but they don't seem to care, and the Service guys usually keep a guy on me to make sure it doesn't happen, but I left them behind back at base, so I'm just gonna have to lose 'em again myself. I just wanted to call to tell you not to show up, it could be dangerous."

London sputtered. "Could be dangerous? Of course it's bloody danger—don't you realize that you are a little more important now? Apparently they do! Where are you, we need to get you to safety!"

"We? Look Brit dude, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I've been doing it alone since the 1850's," at this America flinched, "I can lose 'em, just you stay away so I know you're okay."

"No, tell me where you are." Landon was firm, staring at the phone as if it would tell him.

"No, ugh, please. Dude. This is ridiculous, I want you out of this."

Surprising London, England spoke first at the phone. "You're right lad, this is ridiculous, that you aren't helping yourself, now give us your location." America suddenly took out his own phone, looking at something intently, before looking back at both of them.

"Uhhhhhhhh who is that? I don't recall meeting two brit dudes."

England brought his hand to his face. "You're avoiding the question. Where are you? Are you still walking?" America caught London's and England's attention.

"I can track his call." America said quietly so Danny couldn't hear. The Brits raised their brows, then Landon's eyes narrowed.

"Isn't that a tad shady? Invasion of privacy?" He whispered back.

For once, America looked exasperated. "I don't think that's important right now! Don't question the NSA! They do it all the time on NCIS! I just happened to ask for it on my person!" He whisper screamed back. "I can track his call, what's his number?" London gave him the information, as England talked to Danny.

"Yeah, I'm still walking. I'm fine guys, I could run or call a taxi or—Fuck!" They heard a screech of tires, and increase in Danny's breathing. They all turned back to the phone.

"What? What is it Daniel?" Landon asked frantically.

"Dude, they brought out the fucking black van," another breath, "And they're running now, I gotta jet!"

America whisper-screamed frantically. "Don't let him off the phone or we lose the connection!" He started heading towards the door and waved them to follow him. "Come on, I got a location!"

England yelled at the phone, following Landon out the hotel room door. "Stay on the line boy, please!"

"Alright," Danny panted again, clearly now sprinting through the streets of Washington. "Who are you please?"

Landon waited until they were downstairs before he spoke to Danny this time, as he jogged through the lobby with America and England. "Daniel that was England, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland."

"Whaaaaaaa…" Danny quieted while still running. "You serious?"

At this England and London shared a laugh on their way out the hotel door. This boy. He was wowed by just the knowledge that he spoke to a country, just like he'd been when he met London, the capitol, that day before.

Then England and London stopped laughing and looked pointedly at America. They had reached to sidewalk and their ride.

"What? Get on." America's ride right now was a Harley Davidson motorcycle, fortunately with a side car. America swung his leg over, and patted the area behind him. He smirked at England.

"We don't have time, come on. London gets sidecar." He handed London the phone with the tracker. "Tell me where to go."

England looked slightly sick, but reluctantly hopped behind America. "Is there a helmet?"

America just laughed. "Hold on tight dude."

London watched the exchange with a snicker from his safer looking spot in the side car before he was distracted by Danny's voice. According to the tracker, Danny wasn't too far. They could be there in minutes.

"Guys, though seriously? I might have to get off soon to run better—"

"NO!" All three of them yelled at the phone, just as they pulled off the curb.

"Okay, yeesh, I got the memo," Danny took another breath in his run, "What's that noise? Are y'all driving? I thought I told y'all to stay put."

"Daniel, you better be bloody grateful, because we are risking our arses for you. I'm riding in a god-forsaken side car of a motorcycle—Oh Dear Lord!" Landon grabbed the side of the car as it turned quickly. He suddenly realized why England didn't own a motorcycle, and why America did. It was bloody dangerous, and America was weaving dangerously through traffic with England looking pale and clutching America's waist like a life-line.

Surprisingly, Danny just laughed through the phone.

"What is it git?" Landon said angrily into the phone before calling out to America, "Turn left!"

A sharp turn left had Landon gritting his teeth, and holding on for dear life. "AGh!"

"Oh my God." A snicker and deep running breath, "I can just imagine you guys on motorcycle, and I bet it's frickin' hilarious." He paused for another breath. "Wait, who's driving the bike?"

"America." Landon managed to get into the phone. "Turn RIGHT." Another fast sharp turn, and a distressed noise from Landon.

Silence from the phone. "Daniel?"

Danny was getting tired and he couldn't seem to lose the stalkers this time. Hot on his trail, he felt like a rabbit being chased by a pack of wolves. He needed to come up with a better plan than run like a bat out of hell, but keeping up the conversation was taking his focus away from a strategy. And then this? It was America driving Landon?

"Is it," another pant came through the phone, "Really him?"

Instead of an answer, he heard Landon yell at America. "TurN LEFT—oh my God imgoingtobesick."

Danny came to corner and turned, stopping so fast at the black van in front of him that he fell back on his butt before narrowly scuttling underneath the arms reaching for him. He dropped the phone and ran down a side street, sprinting out the other end and crossing the street with little regard for traffic. He was almost out of steam, but he knew of an alley where he could confront his stalkers. He looked over his shoulder to confirm their chase, seven men in all black with their faces covered, before sprinting full steam ahead. _How does Batman do it?_ Daniel's exercised-addled brain thought, _Dudes gotta have, like, lungs of cheetah, chasing after all those criminals. Damn, I need to get out more. Or lay off the McDonalds. ANYTHING TO MAKE EXERCISE EASIER._

Landon quieted after he heard a crash. "Daniel?"

There was some harsh cursing, something that sounded suspiciously like the phone skidding away until there was nothing left but sounds of traffic. They were only a street away. So close.

"Which way London!?" He heard America call out to him.

"I don't know! He dropped the phone! But, uh, it looked like he was going down a street… go LEFT AGAIN." Hard fast turn left. "HERE!"

They quickly got off the bike, and London ran over to a phone lying lonely on the ground, the call still on.

"Bloody hell…" London was now distressed as he picked up the phone, they had to find him quick or they would lose him again, this time for good. America pulled something out of his belt to hand to England.

"BLOODY HELL YOU BROUGHT A GUN!?" England bristled at the gun being handed to him before taking it.

"No," America casually replied, pulling out another from the bike, "I brought two guns. And a pocket knife." He handed the knife to London. Suddenly they heard a gunshot, not too far down the street. They all took off running, bravely (or stupidly) towards the danger.

Danny found the alley, and ran down it just as he heard a bang and felt something fly passed his arm that left a hole in the wall in front of him. They brought guns this time. Danny panicked, suddenly he didn't feel like batman anymore. He stumbled and skidded to the concrete, destroying the skin on his arms. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and got into a fighting stance. _I ain't goin down without good brawl to put under my belt. Good enough to make Batman proud._ Seven men surrounded him.


	9. Three shots

Capital punishment

Chapter 8

Danny waited for one of them to swing first. He ducked under and brought a fast fist to the man's face, hearing a nice crack signaling a broken jaw. One-shot and the man went down, but Danny couldn't pay him any attention as two guys came on each side reaching for his shoulders. He grabbed the arm on his right and flipped his attacker onto the other, making a two man pile of criminal.

 _BATMAN, BATMAN, BATMAN, IM THE BATMAN_ , Danny chanted to himself, before he grabbed a metal trash can lid and swung it into the face of the next guy unlucky enough to come at Danny alone. _NO, THAT WAS TOTALLY A CAPTAIN AMERICA MOVE THAT WAS AWESOME._ Two down and out, two more rushed at Danny who used the wall behind him to brace his back and bring his legs up to push them both away from him before stepping out from the wall. The two man pile had recovered, this time coming at him from the front and back. Danny quickly stepped backward, spun halfway using his momentum to swing his elbow into the guy's temple. Focusing on his front, he dodged two blows before returning two of his own to the man's face, grabbing the guy's head to pull it down while bringing his knee up to meet the masked face.

 _TOTALLY GOT THAT FROM ASSASSINS CREED 3,_ Danny brought his focus back, _Alright, four down, gotta take down the three before they regroup._ Running at one guy who was standing a little too close to the other wall, he ducked under and slammed his foot into the back of his attacker's leg. Bringing the masked man down to his hands and knees, Danny used a harsh kick to the enemy's cheek, the momentum alone sent his head into the wall behind him like a second kick.

 _Jeeze, I gotta admit that was fucking brutal._ As the next came for Danny's back, he dropped his shoulder and football slammed this guy back. Letting the enemy stumble backwards, Danny grabbed the masked man's arm with one hand, using it as leverage so he could smash his other fist twice into the criminal's face. He went down.

 _One lef—_ Danny spun around only to find gun aimed at his heart, only inches from his chest. _Oh shit._

"DANIEL." Both Danny and the masked man jerked their heads to look at the end of the alley, where Danny could see Landon and two other men pointing handguns in their direction.

"Move and he gets it." The criminal warned with an unidentifiable accent, as the man grabbed Danny's collar with his other hand, bringing him closer to the gun and closer to death. Danny sucked in a breath as he felt the barrel of the gun settle in the center of his chest. _This is so not awesome,_ Danny thought.

"Let him go or we will shoot." America warned, both him and England had steady aim at the gunman's head. America hasn't had a good ole standoff in a while, but these were not the circumstances to feel the thrill like he had in the old west. This was a hostage situation. America hated hostage situations.

The man just chuckled, "I believe I have the upper hand here. Now let me and the boy through. We have business to discuss."

 _I gotta do something,_ Danny went through scenarios in his head, but nothing came that would leave anyone unharmed. _Screw it, I'm my own hero._

"We don't want a fight, let the boy go and we could forget this." Landon hoped a negotiation would get Danny safe. Of course, only so Landon could kill Danny later for being so careless and making his rescue involve riding a motorcycle with America.

Surprising them all, including the gunman, Danny spat in the man's eyes while bringing his one arm up to brush the gun away from his chest. Three shots rang out through the alley. It all happened so fast the Danny couldn't even feel pain until he watched the gunman fall with two shots in his head. America and England had aimed true. But the gunman wasn't too far off. Danny staggered back, his shoulder feeling hot and wet as blood bloomed on his blue Captain America T-shirt. _Well damn, that's gonna be a bitch to get that stain out,_ Danny thought as he heard three sets of footsteps fast approaching him. His knees just started to buckle from shock, when he felt hands start to hold him up.

"Oh my _GOD,_ Daniel, why did you _do_ that?" Landon asked him gently from his one side.

"Dude, I'm not gonna be some damsel in distress, I'm not a good hostage." Danny muttered back, as they guided him out of the alley.

At this Landon lightly chuckled, "No, you certainly are not. But now we have a different problem. America? What do we do now? There is not enough room in your motorcycle, should we go somewhere?" Danny was in too much pain to realize that America was holding up his other side, with England at his back in case he fell.

America looked pained and took a moment to answer, "Well guys, if we take him back to the capitol, they may take him away from me, and I… don't want that." He paused, then put a confident look on his face like that of a resolute soldier and turned to look at England and London individually. "I have the supplies back at my place to patch him up, you guys don't have to help anymore. He's my responsibility now."

London narrowed his eyes, and England crossed his arms.

"No." They both said at the same time.

"No, America, we are going to help. You both need help, do you have any idea how to handle a capitol? I have invested more time in this boy than you have so far, and to be frank, we have acquired something of a friendship. I am not going to leave him now." London said firmly.

"Please don't leave me yet." Danny whispered, only hearing the last part. He leaned his head on Landon's shoulder, and Landon suddenly felt very much attached. America pouted.

"America let us help, God knows you need some guidance right now, and we know how this system works. Do it for him, at least. He needs some guidance too." England said looking sympathetic, but he had to make his point. He couldn't leave America alone now with no idea of how to handle his government, which is more delicate right now than one would think.

America looked shocked for a moment, before giving them a rare small smile. "Thanks guys, but I hope you know these means that we all have to fit on my Harley."

England's and London's faces went white. Danny picked his head up and squinted at the bike.

"Nice bike, dude." Danny commented.

America grinned. He liked him already. "Thanks dude."


	10. Ride for the Queen

Capital Punishment

Chapter 9

No. No no. No. Landon didn't like this at all. How were they supposed to fit four people on a motorcycle? Landon looked at America like he had four heads.

"And just how are we supposed to fit?" Landon asked incredulously.

"Yes, please, do tell." Added England with crossed arms.

America looked at London from the other side of Danny. "He'll just sit on your lap."

NO. "HOW IS THAT SAFE?" London just about yelled. He wanted Danny to be helped, but putting his wellbeing in danger for a ride didn't seem to fit in London's eyes, and London was already sick with the thought on getting back on that death trap with America. Then Danny started to droop in London's arms, and London made a quick, probably reckless decision that he was already regretting.

"Alright help us on."

They guided Danny over to the Harley's sidecar. "Are we going for a ride?" Danny weakly asked.

Landon almost winced, Danny didn't seem to grasp the situation anymore. He was too exhausted. Landon just hoped he wouldn't pass out on them, and he really wanted to take away Danny's pain. This was supposed to be a beautiful moment, a meeting between capitol and country that would be the beginning of a long lasting companionship. For some reason, bad guys and bullets seem to just pull the beauty right out it.

Landon tried to sound gentle and reassuring, as he used his other hand to brush Danny's bangs from his eyes. "Don't worry mate, just a short one to get you patched up."

London relinquished Danny to England to ease himself into the sidecar just as they heard sirens in the distance.

"Alright dudes, we gotta hurry it up before the police get here and we have to answer some very uncomfortable questions." America pointed out as he and England sat Danny on top of London.

London grunted from the weight. "Oh dear Lad, you are not light." He huffed at Danny.

Danny just leaned his head on Landon's shoulder and smiled. "Hiya Donny."

Landon's face went red, both from anger and embarrassment, but he restrained himself by telling himself that Danny's not completely here right now.

"Bloody git, don't call me that." Landon grumbled out and turned his attention back to America who was still getting situated with England on the bike. The sirens were getting closer.

"Are we ready yet?" Landon asked them.

"Yeah, _Donny._ " America smirked at London, and he started the Harley so that London had to scream his reply over the engine.

"ALRIGHT YOU IMPUDENT DOG, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT." London scowled and let out yell of both frustration and fear as the bike accelerated down the street. His scowl deepened and his grip tightened on Danny as he heard America laughing over the engine. America's laughter soon turned into a startled yelp as England bopped him on the head.

"Don't call my capitol that, I raised you with some respect," England berated him.

America grinned. Truth be told, he was just trying to distract himself from the amount of stress he was feeling right now. He just found his capitol in time to watch him be taken hostage and shot. That's generally not the first impression that he wanted to make, and he felt guilty that he hadn't gotten there earlier. He should have been there for his capitol decades ago, and when that boy really needed him down in that alley, America was still too late. _Why can't I do anything right this year?_ America wondered, _I haven't been a very good hero… but maybe I can still make everything work out. Maybe I can make it up to him._

But he also did enjoy teasing the Englishmen, and that was just too fun to watch London go from zero to a hundred real quick.

"Can we turn on the radio?" They heard over the bike motor.

The attention was pulled back to Danny who looked pale and weak, the wind was the only thing keeping his hair off of his sweaty face. He rolled his head to look over at the Harley.

"If not, I'll sing." For some reason, that sounded like a threat.

"GLORY, GLORY, HALLELUJAH—umph!" Landon maneuvered his hand over Danny's mouth.

"Yes, well, that's very nice lad but I think we can turn on the radio." Landon then addressed America who was trying to hold in a laugh. "Do think you can handle some music while you drive?"

"Just who do you think you are talking to? I'm the greatest country ever, I can totally put on some music." America said haughtily and pressed some buttons when they got to a stop light. England bopped America's head again but peaked his head to watch the radio, hoping for some good tunes. He was surprised when America handed him his phone with a cord attached.

"Aux cord baby, England you can be DJ."

England smiled deviously, suddenly feeling very much in control. He looked at America's playlists.

"Oh so you do have some descent music." England remarked. He pressed shuffle on Queen, and _We Will Rock You_ started blasting on the speakers. England heard London hoot from the side-car gave England a side glance, mouthing the words to England while holding Danny to his chest. In front of him, England felt America laugh from the way his arms were around America's waist.

The wind blowing through their hair and the music flowing into their ears, it was easy to forget the tension that they all felt this morning. For a second, it felt like they were just a group of guys out for a ride, and both of the Englishmen noticed that America's driving seemed to improve with feeling. No longer was he driving like a maniac; it was just smooth sailing. It was still as thrilling, but now it was as if they were one with the road, out of the main city and into the streets where they could cruise with music weaving around them like ribbon. It occurred to England that this was the real reason that America drove a bike. The long cross country drives through America's states must be a completely different experience with nothing between him and his land, where he could feel the wind and the rushing calm of the passing amber waves of grain. It as if they was closer to the land itself. England smiled to himself, look at what his colony became.

"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS!" They all laughed as Danny bellowed this part out.

"Alright lad, take it easy." Landon chuckled at him, as brushed Danny's bangs out of his face again. Careful of the wounded shoulder, Landon tried to make him more comfortable. Man, this lad was growing on him. Having a Watson was now sounding like a good idea.

"KAY DUDES, WE BE PULLIN' UP OUTSIDE SOON." America shouted over the music and motor.

"WE _WILL_ BE, IDIOT." England corrected. America grinned again, not that England could see it anyway.

They pulled up the driveway of a nice two-story colonial style brick house with white trims and windows. The front lawn was well-kept with trimmed hedges and a witch-hazel tree over some statues near the front door. It wasn't over-done, but it showed that the caretaker cared about the lay of the land and insisted on the correct management of the scenery. It was America's other home near Washington, the one that he used to get away from the main strain but close enough to hop back over into the city when he was needed. This was not England's first time at the house, but it was for London, and he was impressed.

Then, as they stepped off the bike, something occurred to London.

"America, I thought you lived at the White house."

At this America's grin faltered, and when it came back it was a little cynical. London regretted the comment.

"If Melania won't even live there with him then neither will I."

London didn't like that look on America, it simply didn't fit him. There must be a lot going on underneath the skin for something so passive aggressive as that to come out of his mouth. Poor guy was under a lot of stress lately, he can't seem to catch a break. London could see how tired he was. England could too, in all of America's actions since 2017 began there was an underlying exhaustion, but all they could really do was offer support. And tea, but it's not like America would accept that anyway.

America and England helped lift Danny off London, and he stepped out of the side-car. When Danny put his feet on the ground, he was still stable enough to stand with somebody to keep him upright, and Landon cheered a little bit on the inside. He seemed to be doing better.

"Duh duh duh, and another one bites the dust." Danny hummed into America's shoulder.

He just didn't have his head back yet.

London took England's spot at Danny's side, and they began their trek into the house, over a little brick path to bright white door where England knew enough to pull the spare key out of a small eagle statue's beak. He opened the door and they trudged inside. Time to fix up a capitol.

* * *

Commentary!

Hey peeps! Lifeoflemoon here! I'm still new to the whole writing thing, so if anything about Danny and the capitols is confusing, please feel free to ask any questions. Also, I'm still new to this whole Hetalia thing, so if anything seems out of place, please feel free to let me know. I have a vague idea of where I'm going with the plot, and I like to entwine some political commentary, but if anybody has any ideas of where I should take this story, I would love to hear them. But keep in mind, this story is about action, friendship, family, and maybe slight romance (I'm a major shipper of UKUS). Thanks peeps!


	11. America's house

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 10

America's house interior was surprisingly simple. Coming into the front door was the living room with white walls and a beige carpet. It was definitely his house, with little decorations that generally carried either an eagle or the stars and stripes. However, here and there, one could find objects that held great meaning, like the pictures of Canada and him celebrating their respective birthdays together and a little red toy soldier guarding the entry way. America made his home very homely, and most found it to be very comfortable. In front of the TV was a coffee table surrounded by some brown leather couches which Danny found perfectly comfortable for a nap.

Danny's body had pretty much healed itself by the time they laid him on one those couches. For now, they decided he just needed some rest, being that he no longer needed any medical help to fix the hole in his shoulder. And damn was Danny exhausted. He wanted to pass out right then and there, but as his brain was starting to recollect itself he was getting curious as to where he was. Because this definitely was not his bedroom. And where ever he was, Danny thought, it needed some glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

Meanwhile, America was realizing that he had no idea what to do now. Thankfully, England was catching on to his growing mild panic.

"America, can I talk to you in the kitchen?" England said and patted America's shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen doorway. "And London can you watch him?"

"Of course I'll watch him, I'm not going anywhere." London replied sitting next to Danny's head on the long couch as America followed close behind England through to his kitchen.

Landon was suddenly left alone with a healing Danny. "Now what." He muttered looking down at Danny's tired face which was upside down from his perspective. He wasn't sure if he should say something or not, but then Danny beat him to it.

"The letter!" Danny's face lit up with realization. "Dude I almost forgot, it's in my pocket."

Landon looked confused, "What letter?"

"It's what I wanted to show this morning, I got it from the mailman cause he woke me up, and my fish wouldn't answer the door." Danny watched as Landon's face only became more confused.

"Your fish…?"

"Yeah his name is Lincoln but I call him Link."

"Lovely, which pocket is it in?"

"What? My fish isn't in my pocket, that's silly Donny. There's the letter in my right pocket addressed to me, and watch out for the knife, its vintage."

Landon scowls at the name but doesn't comment. "You're telling me that you had a knife in your pocket during that whole ordeal in the alley? And now you're asking me to fish a letter out of your own pocket that also holds that knife."

"Well yeah, bro I have lived a pretty sheltered life holed up in Capitol Hill, do you think that I have ever killed a man? No sir, I'm a hero not a killer." Then Danny shifts his head so that he wasn't looking at Landon. "And that knife is special, a gift from a friend long ago." Danny looks back up at Landon and pouts. "Besides, it's in a snakeskin sheathe and my shoulder still hurts."

Landon rolls his eyes. "Alright." He reaches over Danny's head and pulls an old folded note out his pocket. Now Landon was intrigued, this paper was yellowed and antique. He holds it back up to his face to read. _Ugh, old writing styles,_ he groans inwardly as he reads the first sentence. But as he reads further down the page he becomes steadily more upset. It made sense, that they kept poor Daniel away because of bad strategy and bad protection, but they had no right to keep this knowledge away from America, to not even give him the chance to defend himself, and to separate him completely from the sacred relationship between country and capitol. Landon was about to stand up in outrage.

"NOPE."

Landon found himself being pulled back down the couch and a heavy weight on his legs. Danny had carefully maneuvered his head on Landon's lap and was pulling him down.

"Let me up lad, I have to show them this letter, it's a disgrace." Landon said angrily.

"No, you're my pillow and I'm tired. Put it on the table. We'll deal with it later." Danny pouted up at him and closed his eyes to further his point.

Landon ran a hand down his face in exasperation, but gave in and put the letter on the table. He couldn't get up anyway, there was a wounded child on his lap and he was surprisingly stubborn.

"Fine."

"Good."

Landon leaned his head back on the couch. It seemed like a good time for a nap anyway.

Back in the kitchen, England and America stood facing America's back glass sliding doors with a good view of his back porch and yard. America had just recently started working on the back yard flowers for spring. It was something he did when he was stressed. America spoke first.

"Did we just leave a kid with a bullet wound on my couch?"

England closed his eyes and let out a breath before replying.

"No America, capitols heal just like we do. In fact they heal faster when their countries are around them. He will be fine."

"Oh good." America sighed in relief and remembered something from years ago. Back after the London Blitz he remembered how England would hardly let London out of his sight. Every time they were away from the capitol, London's condition seemed to worsen for a while and England would be anxious to return for his safety. However, whenever they returned, London would grit his teeth and tell them he was fine. Don't worry about him when they have a war to win. London's strength surprised even America.

"You probably have more questions." England stated.

America did have more questions, only now that he had time to ask them, he couldn't remember any of them.

"Is he really my capitol?" America looked hopeful over at England.

England didn't move his gaze from the yard when he replied.

"He is healing, is he not?"

"Oh yeah, I suppose you're right."

"It seems logical, but I really don't know. We haven't had any real confirmation, we just followed London and saved a boy's life. We should probably ask them."

"Do you think he'll like me?"

England paused and then turned to look at America, whose eyes were pleading with emotions. Of course America would be unsure of himself, at a time like this when everything seems to going wrong in his country. He was insecure and England felt the obligation to help the younger country sort things out, especially since America now had something new on his plate. But England was sure that whoever this boy was on the couch, he and America needed each other. They would be good for each other. And England was going to make sure of it, for his former colony. He was also guilty of being the one who burned Washington to the ground. Now he can make up for it. England gave America a gentle smile.

"America, you can only make sure you do what is best. Whether or not he likes it should not be your first priority. Remember that the hero always does what is right, which is not always the elected choice. And who was the only one that liked your deathtrap?"

"My Harley?"

"Yes, that. He may be a capitol, but he should be _your_ capitol. He may look up to you more than you know. I have had London by my side for hundreds of years, and he still surprises me from time to time. Try not to worry. Do I think he will like you? We should probably ask him." England went to pat America's shoulder again when he was met in a crushing hug. He hugged America back.

"Why do you always have to make sense?" America mumbled over England's shoulder.

England chuckled. "Somebody has to keep your head out of the stars. Your heart can stay up there, but we need your head down here." They let each other go and stood apart.

"You always know what to say." America laughed, "Thank you."

England waved him off and made a gesture for America to follow him back to the living room.

"Come on, git," He let out a laugh, "we should go ask him."


	12. Hug or handshake?

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 11

Well this certainly wasn't what they were expecting. America and England shared a surprised glance, and America snorted before turning back to look at the sight in front of them. Both Danny and London were asleep on the couch, Danny laying his head on London's lap while London used a hand to unconsciously card through Danny's mop of blond hair.

"Should we ruin it?"

"No America!"

America spotted an old piece of paper on his coffee table that definitely wasn't there before. Curious, he walks over to investigate and picks it up to read.

"Welp, this looks important. Hey England check this out, it was written, like, 150 years ago."

"Git, don't use the word 'like' as a filler." England huffs, but he looks at the page over America's suddenly tense shoulder. As England skimmed down the letter, a feeling of guilt and pity grew in the pit of his stomach.

"My word…" He breathed, "At least we have confirmation…" England trailed off when America dropped the letter and put his hands to his face.

"'Was not able to protect him.'" America mumbled quietly through his hands. "'Immature.'"

This made England angry. There was no way that was he going to let America despair over this. It was not even America's fault, he had only been his own country for about 20 years, and he had a capitol for even less. He probably shouldn't even have attempted another war so young anyway.

"America, look at me."

America didn't move. England turned America around and pulled his hands down.

"America, it's not even your fault and congress had no right to keep this from you. You have a second chance now, that does not always happen. Use it. He's here now."

America pulled his hands away to wipe his eyes on his sleeve and when he put his arms down, he had a resolute look in his eyes.

"You're right. It starts now. Here's a chance for me to make everything better." America turned to look at Danny, where London was now resting his hand on Danny's forehead. America awkwardly turned back to England.

"Eeeeeeh, but he's asleep."

"What? Are you nervous?" England challenged with hands on his hips.

"No! 'Course not!" To prove his point, America snatched the remote from the coffee table and flicked on the T.V. where sudden gunshots and yells blared from his sound system. Leave it to America to keep the channel on Western gunslinger films.

"BLOODY HELL!" Chaos reigned in the room for a moment as London scrambled fully onto the couch cushions in a wild crouch and Danny rolled onto the floor with a resounding "Ommph!" before bracing his back against the bottom of the couch, holding his shoulder in a meager attempt to prevent any more bullet damage.

America burst into laughter in front of the T.V. and had to bend over with hands on his knees to keep himself from falling. Next to him, England was trying not to laugh and had a hand over his mouth trying to prevent any of his snorts from escaping, but a few slipped through his fingers. He couldn't hold back once London shot him a killer glare.

After it all died down, and America turned down the volume, Landon noticed that Danny was oddly quiet. He followed Danny's amazed look to America's back, who had turned away to find a calmer television station. He watched as Danny mouthed 'No way, this is wicked cool,' and Landon let out chuckle as he hopped from his perch on the couch cushions to pat Danny's shoulder.

London cleared his throat. "America. Somebody wants to meet you. For real this time."

America turned around to find Danny staring at him like he was some kind of god. That wasn't the look he was expecting, and he floundered. He wanted to be friendly and say something awesome, but suddenly his mouth was dry and his brain was numb and all he could do was give the boy a big smile.

Luckily for him, Danny made the first move, rocketing up from his spot on the floor to stand in front of America with a huge grin. He shot out a hand and gave America's whole arm a vigorous shake as words tumbled out of his mouth like Niagara Falls.

"Hi my name is Daniel Christopher Washington, but everybody calls me Danny. You can call me Danny. It's great to finally meet you. You're America? That's so cool! I've tried to look into you before in the national archives back in the 80's. Well, not into you, but you know what I mean. I also heard that you fought overseas back in the 40's but I was only 15ish and I couldn't join the fight. Do you have a human name like Landon?"

"Danny, breath." London chuckled behind him. This was just like their meeting at Starbucks. "Give America the chance to respond."

Danny was still shaking America's hand when speech returned to America's brain. His smile widened at Danny as he realized that everything was going to be okay.

"Yeah I'm America, yes that is so cool, don't go into war at 15, and my name is also Alfred Freedom Jones. You can call me Alfred. Or America. Or the United States of America. Or the greatest nation on earth. I'm not picky." Then something occurred to America.

"Wait a minute. Daniel Christopher Washington? Like D.C. Washington? Washington D.C.? District of Columbia?"

London casually leaned on Danny's shoulder and studied his nails. "I do believe that is the idea."

"Just hug him already." England called from the side and London removed himself from the equation.

Danny and America just noticed that their hands were still in a handshake. In moment that waited 200 years, America encompassed his capitol in a hug, and Danny hugged him back.

Off side by side with England, London introduced Danny by his full name.

"America, meet the District of Columbia, also known as Washington D.C."

Then the phone rang.


	13. Phone Calls

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 12

It was England's phone. _Here Comes the Sun_ by the Beatles. England glared as America started to snort over the choice in ringtone.

"Hello?"

"Angleterre! Ze meeting is starting! Where are you and Amerique!?" Came an angry french accent.

England's eyes widened and he quickly looked at his watch. It was only just passed 10 o'clock, but that morning had felt like days had passed. The bombshell of an appearing capitol, having to track him down in morning traffic on a death bike, watching him be held hostage and shot, hopping back on that death bike, arriving at America's house. It was enough for them to disregard the time and forget the meeting that was going to occur between the nations. America was supposed to be hosting. England sputtered for a second; he's not used to being this forgetful and unorganized.

"Germany just wants to start it now, and he won't allow me to postpone it any longer!"

England's mouth tried to form words, but America saw his malfunction and stole the phone. He, for one, was used to being this forgetful and unorganized.

"Yeah, hold up dude, we'll be there in a bit. Something _really_ important came up. An emergency." He said flippantly.

From his tone, France couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

"Oh? Honhonhon, needing some alone time after a long night with Angleterre?"

"Yeah lots. Totally." America smiled, but it held some mischievous intent. England launched himself at the phone, red faced and aggressive like a snarling fox.

America raised the phone out of reach so the angry Brit couldn't snag it back.

"Up all night to get lucky!" Washington called from his spot on the couch. England swiftly turned on him, ready to kill.

Threat distracted, America quickly ended the call.

"YEAH SO SEE LATER BYE!"

America raised a fist to his capitol. "That's what I call teamwork! Fist bump!" They bumped with much vigor.

"Both of you are such children!" England yelled to the ceiling. London rolled his eyes. When he finds out those aggravated assault charges, he'll just share them with England.

"But seriously though? We gotta go, I'm missing my own meeting. You guys good to hang here? Watch the house?" America addressed the capitols.

"We aren't actually hanging anything, right? A little old school, don't you think America?" London said casually leaning on the couch with an evil grin.

"Hahaha bye." America turned for the door. "Don't break anything."

"Roger that sir!" Washington saluted dramatically. America decided that deserved a smile and saluted back as he held the door for England.

"Be good lads! London, remember, we burn first. Hanging is for later." England added with a wink. The door shut behind them.

It was silent for a moment before Washington started to laugh.

"Oh I get it! Burn, like roasted? Sick burn bro? Or you guys just have a twisted sense of humor."

London just let a lazy smile come across his face. Then he winced, and brought a hand up his head.

"Woah brit dude, you okay?" Washington was concerned.

"Nothing too bad, a head pain every once in a while. Cannot be rectified." London gritted his teeth. "Brexit."

D.C. nodded in understanding. "Would England help?"

"No, it involves the whole country and the government. He must be getting them too. Headaches every once on a while. It's not major problem, but there are many and intermittent. We should be able to handle it though. Britain isn't known for being weak." London leaned back into the couch. "Might want another nap."

The phone rang. A different phone, a landline. Both capitol's heads snapped up at the sound coming from America's house phone hanging on the wall by the kitchen door. Washington stood up, but hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate to answer America's phone while the country had just left. He decided it couldn't hurt, he could ask them to leave an awesome message for the best nation on earth. He answered the phone.

"America's house, who is calling?"

"Yes, this is the secret service, Agent Johnson. I'm assuming America isn't in?"

Washington froze. London watched him tense from the couch and walked over to listen. D.C. spoke briskly.

"No, he just left."

"Is he with anybody? A blond boy with blue eyes?" Johnson asked.

 _They are looking for me with him_ , Washington thought, starting to panic. _Are they going to take me away? What if they don't allow me to see him again?_ Washington had just met the guy, he didn't want to say goodbye yet, it simply wasn't fair and it wasn't the agent's job to intercede. Or maybe it was. But Washington wasn't about to run away like he had on the ranch. There was so much he wanted to do with this newfound sense of adventure. He calmed himself and spoke clearly, using his diplomat voice and set his tone like a stubborn politician with an iron will.

"He was with England. That is all."

"And who are you? Does America know who is in his house?"

Like America wouldn't know who was in his house. And this person who was trespassing would answer the phone. Is this Johnson guy new? But Washington didn't like the question and answered quickly.

"Just a friend. He asked me to check on his cat." God, he hoped America had a cat. Or that this agent was gullible.

"Alright. But we will be sending an agent over soon. We have a missing member of government."

 _Member of government my Ass_ , Washington thought. _I haven't done jack shit lately._ They had to leave, find a safer, less conspicuous place for a capitol to hide.

"Is that all, sir?" Washington all but gritted out.

"Yes, thank you." Agent Johnson hung up. London spoke up with a confused look.

"How did you know America has a cat?"

Washington blinked. "He has a cat?"

"A Maine coon, I believe. Named it Americat."

Washington snorted. "How original."

London chuckled, "Yes, I suppose it is. England has a Scottish fold. Englandcat."

"Oh my god, really?" Washington was having trouble holding in his impending snorts, beginning to sound like happy piglet. Then he remembered that they shouldn't stay too much longer unless he wanted an unhappy reunion between him and the Secret service. "So Brit stick, we should really head out somewhere. I don't wanna go home yet."

London scowled like a wet cat. That was a new name. He did not like it.

"Pardon? Brit stick?" He emphasized the end of each word with the hard "t" and "K."

Washington thoroughly enjoyed that name. He was so going to use that more often. Teasing the English is fun. "Yeah, but we should hurry." He said with a lingering smile.

London became serious, ready for action. "Where do you suppose we go?"

Washington grinned. "Starbucks sound good?"


	14. Starbucks again?

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 13

Standing in America's garage with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face, Washington realized that there was a small, very large kink in their plan to hide at his favorite Starbucks. How were they going to get there?

"Uh, Brit dude?"

"Do not call me 'Brit dude.'" London scowled from next to him.

"How are we supposed to get back into the city?"

London turned to him quickly like he was electrocuted. "We are NOT taking America's death trap."

"The Harley?" Washington responded.

"Yes, any better ideas?"

Washington surveyed America's garage, looking at each of his 4 cars, one already missing. Most were Ford's and Chrysler's, and were pretty good cars, Washington approved the choice in vehicles. A bright red shiny Thunderbird, very well cared for, looked very appealing for a drive around the city. But that green Jeep to the right was kind of rugged and fun looking, Washington could visualize himself going off road somewhere in the dry lands of Arizona, a state he has never even been to. The Lincoln next to the Jeep was a little too businesslike for his tastes, but it would be a good car if he worked as a lawyer or a politician. Which he sorta did. But the car that was calling his name, the car he thought he would never be able to drive with his position as a capitol in a very elitist city, was the old rusty pickup truck. Two seater, brown paint peeling off, it reminded Washington of Tow Mater from the movie Cars.

He looked over at London and smiled excitingly.

"We're driving the truck."

"That dusty old thing?" London, personally, was eyeing the Lincoln. It was very classy indeed. Too bad he wouldn't even be able to drive it anyway. Wrong side of the road and all. "Do you know where the keys are?"

Washington smile dropped. "Nope. Do you?"

"No." London thought for a moment. "Shouldn't we tell America we're trying to take one of his cars?"

"Nah, I'm sure he'll find it later."

London deadpanned. Washington opened the door to the truck, luckily it wasn't locked. Good thing it's in a locked garage.

"Hey, the keys are in the dash."

"Do you even know how to drive?" London asked from the passenger's side.

Washington froze in the driver's seat. London asked the one question he was hoping wouldn't be asked. Sheepishly turning to London with a kicked puppy look, he slowly let out a 'no.' London brought his hand to his forehead, but before he could complete the look of incredulous disappointment, Washington tried to intervene.

"But I have a permit… I snuck the test one day at a DMV while the feds weren't looking…"

London raised a sarcastic eyebrow. Washington grumbled.

"Fine. We should really probably follow the law. It is important." He started to open the door, but London stopped him, looking a little unsure.

"Wait, what is the law?"

"I have to drive with a legal adult."

"Well I am a legal adult…" London started.

But Washington was starting to feel responsible again.

"No, no, no, we can't, don't you drive on the other side of the road?"

"Details, details, let's just get on with it." London waved those details like a fly.

"But a legal adult age for driving with a permit learner is 21…"

"You want to drive the bloody vehicle, don't you?"

"Yes, alright." Washington turned the key and started the truck, a deep rumbly noise filling the quiet garage. His face filled with a satisfied smile, which he turned to London who proceeded to cross his arms and raise his brows.

"Don't kill me." London suddenly added, as the truck started to roll.

* * *

"America! England! You are late! America, please begin hosting your meeting!" Germany griped at them from the conference table.

"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, sorry dudes, but something came up and I had to run all over the city trying to fix it, and England was very kind to help me patch things up—"

"Are you thanking me? Publicly?" England cut in, surprise showing in his green eyes.

America looked a bit put off and frowned. "Well, yeah, it was important."

"Please, just move on vith ze meeting." Germany groaned, looking at his watch. "Ve have break in almost an hour now. Ve have very important things to discuss, America, especially vith those new policies of yours." Somehow Germany managed to look both angry and sympathetic.

America felt his stomach drop, a brief look of panic flashed in his eyes before he covered it up by walking to his seat, England by his side. He set his stuff down on the table. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He looked up, he smiled and he started the meeting.

* * *

Twenty five minutes later London and Washington were sitting tensely at a table in the Starbucks. London spent the ride clutching the seats with white knuckles, silently wishing he could drive on the right side of the road. Washington spent the ride clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, silently wishing that highways didn't exist. The side roads were fun in the truck, and the city driving came easily to him, but highways twisted his gut in ways that left fear tingling up his spine. It was too fast and as a new driver he was deathly afraid of an accident at those high speeds. London could feel his fear radiating the driver's seat and began to feel nervous as they got further down the road. They had both left the car quickly and silently, mutually agreeing that they didn't want to talk about it.

"DAN THE MAN!"

Washington felt familiar arms wrap around his shoulders and he grinned.

"How's the date?" Rachel asked.

London spit out his tea back into his cup. Washington frowned.

"It's Friday, right? Still the wonderful year of 2017 in this blessed country?" Danny said looking up her innocently.

"Not just any Friday. With this handsome gentleman, any Friday is an adventure." She winked at Danny, before approaching London's seat and extending her hand.

"My name is Rachel, the owner of this fine establishment and little Dan's boss. And I'm assuming you're Mr. King?"

London recovered, standing with a regal look and shaking her hand with practiced ease.

"Ah, Yes. I am Mister Landon King, the author of Danny's book. I must say that this is a splendid place to meet with friends." London said the nicest thing he could think of without lying. In his opinion, the atmosphere was tacky, the coffee was candy, and the tea was sub-par. But now wasn't the time to be a critic.

"Why thank you sir. I hope you both have a wonderful afternoon." Rachel said a little too whole heartedly. "And Danny, please fill me in on the details, you know I love to know what you're up to." She ruffled his hair and started to turn away. "Let me know when you're free to work again. Samuel wants to challenge you to a speed drinking contest."

Danny looked a bit embarrassed as Landon raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sure thing Rach, see ya later." He waved her off.

"You have quite the life here, don't you?" It was more of a statement than question.

"Oh yeah, you know, I get by," Washington looked down at his mocha, "I have to find some way to distract myself, and it's something kinda normal. Something separate from what the feds are up to. It makes me feel… better when I'm working together with other people to come up with something nice for the city, even if it's just a smile and too sweet coffee."

London understood what Washington meant, having tried something similar after World War Two with a tea shop. He has felt the need to contribute when things are falling apart around him, and he knows the stifling idleness can be suffocating. Especially in government, and for a capitol. Their natural instinct is to work together to complete a common goal. Still, it was nice to know that the young capitol that loved his book worked hard to make people's days better. And he did have a nice smile.

"You think the coffee is too sweet too?"

Washington chuckled, "Sometimes, it depends if I'm feeling a bit bitter myself."

London let out a laugh. "Was that a play on words?"

"What are words for, other than to play with?" Washington quipped back.

"Good answer lad. Cheers." London lifted his tea to him and they each took a sip from their cups.

"Daniel Washington? You'll have to come with us." A deep voice interrupted.

Washington choked. Instead of his Mocha, he felt fear slip down his throat as he turned to find five secret service agents standing by their table. London looked livid.

"And you too, Mr. London." The agent finished.

"That is Mr. King, to you sir." London seemed ready to give a finely worded lecture when the agents grabbed both of them by the arms and escorted them out the doors, Washington looking down defeated. But London wiggled and fought and raised his voice.

"Pardon me sir! Do you know what global laws you are violating? This is no small matter! I will have you know that my government will not be pleased at these violations and will react in kind! The United Kingdom himself will be at your throat with such actions." When this did nothing to deter the agents at the door of their black tinted SUV, he raised the stakes. "This can be considered, in terms of country actions, as a declaration of war!"

The agents paused at the open car doors and seemed to think for a moment, casting quick glances at each other. Washington perked up for second, he thought that he had already lost this battle. But just when they started to hope that this would change the outcome, the agents nodded at each other and shoved them into the SUV. Two agents sitting at each door with London and Washington squished together in the middle.

"We'll let the White House deal with that," Responded an agent.

Washington scoffed, "Like that's a good idea! I can't wait to hear about this on twitter. 'UK claims US violated international policy! UK should apologize! Sad!'" He said changing his voice.

London just shut his eyes and leaned back. This was NOT good.


	15. Missing

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 14

"How did you even know we were at Starbucks?" Washington asked after calming down from his outburst, leaning his head back on the black leather seats. At this point, he has already given up, resigning himself to nurse his slowing growing head ache. He doesn't usually get motion sickness, but something was totally eating him from the inside. It was either stress or maybe even some kind of alien trying to disrupt his immune system and eat his brain. He suddenly felt chills as he remembered one scary alien movie that left him huddled in his bunker for days, only finally emerging from his blankets when he ran out of fish food for Link. It was way too scary…

"Did you really think we sent the agent after you answered that call at Mr. America's house?"

The agent's response jolted Washington out his wacky thoughts, and he turned to glare at the suit next to him.

"Fucking Johnson."

He heard a sneeze from the front seat.

Washington felt he should have known better. Secret Service Agents were pretty clever, and he was already suspicious when Agent Johnson seemed so gullible, so inexperienced and asking weird questions. But Washington had gotten cocky, he was Batman, Captain America and a ninja all at once! He'd finally been outsmarted. And now he was practically a hostage again. He sighed. Too soon in one day, he really wished he had those ninja skills. _Fucking Johnson…_

"We saw you leave the house and tailed you both to that Starbucks. By the way, your driving has improved." The Agent next to him finished. Washington wanted to punch him in the black tinted glasses.

"Hey! No texting!" The agent next to London ripped the phone out of London's hand and shoved it into his suit coat pocket. London huffed and crossed his arms like a child whose toy was taken from him.

"This is utter bollocks." He grumbled.

"You English people actually say that?" Washington asked, only half curious. He shut up when he received a glare in answer. He was too tired right now to actually care.

They took the rest of the ride in silence.

* * *

Around four O'clock, America and England tiredly walked back to America's Chrysler Pacifica hybrid. England was glad that America was trying to help the environment, especially as the White House denied climate change, by getting a hybrid car. But he still couldn't help but silently laugh at the idea of America driving a minivan. It was just a funny image. In the car, America huffed a bit.

"America, being the circumstance and recent developments in your lands, you held together fairly well."

America still frowned, but he sat up straighter in the driver's seat at the praise. "Damn straight."

England looked confused. "What?"

"Never mind. Put on the radio, I need a distraction." England messed with the buttons a bit before the news came on. Talking about leaving the Paris Climate agreement.

"Turn it off."

England scowled a bit before changing it again until BBC World News popped up.

"Ah here we go." He said satisfied.

"Really."

"Of course."

"Fine." America resigned himself to listen. Talking about Brexit affecting the economy. England turned it off.

America laughed as England seemed to massage his head out of sheer exasperation.

"Can't escape work, can we?"

"No, it seems we cannot." England sighed. He checked his phone, having left it on silent throughout the meeting. A couple hundred emails, some new messages, nothing out of the ordinary until he spotted a message from his capitol. Addressed as 'My Palace.'

 _Problem. We need help. Do not declare war._

England's insides turned to ice, his heart practically stopped. Thoughts raced through his head. His capitol needed help? And America's too? They were alone and vulnerable and not with their countries. And what was this about war!? The message was from hours ago! The message was so vague, surely it was incomplete! London would never leave him hanging in suspense, not when his capitol was usually so wordy. He must have sent it quickly and inconspicuously. In panic, England hit the call button and waited, heart beating harder with each ring until all he got was voicemail.

"America, step on the fucking gas. Get us back." He gritted out.

"Huh? What's up with you—" America started.

"Bad news. Capitols need help." England stared seriously at America, wanting him to get the message. "How fast can you get home?"

America's face became stone hard. "Apparently not fast enough."

"Don't even start, I know you feel you haven't been good enough for him, but now is not the time." England pleaded, green eyes showing of all the emotion he couldn't say. The American nation drew a deep breath, pushing his self-doubts aside. England always knew what to say to get him to focus clearly.

"It's fifteen minutes. I can do it in five."

The car accelerated.

* * *

Washington paced back and forth in his room, his fish seeming to match his movements as if feeling his agitation.

"Stop pacing, you're giving me vertigo." Came a slightly sarcastic voice from his bed.

Washington turned on him. "How can you be so calm?! I'm freaking out here!" He gripped his hair like he was trying to remove the mental pain physically from his head. "What if they take me away? What if I never get to see him again? What if they make a restraining order? What if—"

"District of Colombia, this is not some creepy stalker court case, they will never really be able to take you from him. He is your country and you are his capitol, his heart that fuels his veins. If they know what is good for them, then they will leave this alone to its natural courses." London spoke calmly, sitting cross legged on the stars and stripes blanket.

"Oh yeah? What about Berlin? It was in your book."

London froze. Damn, this boy really payed attention when it was important.

"That was a special case. He was almost split. It was after a world war. It was the only choice."

"Made by the government, couldn't they do the same thing to me?" Washington was about ready to cry, he could feel his throat closing up and his breathing rapidly increasing. He was in big trouble, like he was after leaving the Harrison Ranch. Congress wouldn't let him leave. He was a young boy. He doesn't have any power. No one listens to him. He was going to be punished. He froze when arms encased his body and hands push his head into a firm chest. He almost pushed away when he felt hands petting his hair.

"Shhhh, it's okay. You're not alone. You're a capitol. Not a child. You hold great power. You just don't think you do. Just let it out." London spoke softly into the lad's hair. He had never had to do this before. Comfort somebody like this. England kept everything under wraps until it would break open like a dam and they would discuss things together in a room until he felt better. But Washington was so distraught that he need physical comfort to soothe mental wounds. However, he knew what Washington needed to hear and understood his pain. He would help his Watson.

Washington let out a huge breathe and cried. Nobody has held him like this since his time on the ranch over one hundred years ago, when Mrs. Harrison would hold him close as he cried from the pain of being away from the capitol city during the Civil War. He wondered if this is what it was like to have a family again, somebody to tell him it will be okay again soon, somebody to ease him when he felt sick to his stomach, somebody hold him together when deep rackety sobs jolted through his chest and jostled his body. He tried to steady his breathing, listen to London's words and heartbeat. They seemed to calm him and bring him back from his panic.

"What about you? I'm worried about what would happen to you here too. I don't want you to be in trouble because I wanted attention." Washington mumbled between deep breaths into London's chest.

London almost laughed. Washington was still worried about him at a time like this? It was his choice to come in the first place, he could have disregarded the letter and none of this would have passed. He was sort of surprised that the fairies hadn't gotten their hands on such a good hearted boy, they would have been so pleased at the catch. And Washington was ready to blame himself, as if it was his fault that his government didn't follow natural country laws. He called it 'attention' downplaying his role in the whole ordeal, making it easier to blame himself by calling it something petty and unimportant when it really was the opposite. London payed attention to these kinds nuances in language.

"It would be worth it."

Washington trembled. Somebody was going through this for him. Because he was worth it. Huh. He's never heard that before. But it was one of the most important things he had ever heard. As much as he wanted to stay in this comfort for all eternity, he had to pull himself together and give the feds a what for. London was right. He wasn't just a child. He was a capitol. The capitol of the United States of America, one of the most powerful nations on earth. He can stand up for himself, he has been trained by politicians for decades. He stood up straight and looked at London's bright green eyes.

"Thank you. Let's go kick some governmental ass."

London smiled.

Good timing cause the door opened, and an agent stood in the doorway.

"Sirs, the administration will see you now."

* * *

An hour before, the countries leaped out the car in the garage and barged into the door, scaring Americat six feet into the air before he scampered up the stairs.

"Washington! London! Please be here!" America called out, leaving an echo in the empty house. Of course, no answer.

"Bloody fuck! This is terrible! What the hell are we supposed to do now? My capitol is missing in your country!" England growled.

"What, like it's my fault? Don't you point fingers at me! My life isn't exactly fitting together like peas and carrots right now, and I just lost my capitol for the fourth time!" America cried.

England did the math. Yesterday at the mall, this morning as a hostage, and this afternoon. What was the fourth time—oh! Right. 1814. England forced his anger down. They needed to focus on finding their capitols, not blaming each other for grievances, past and present.

"Stop! We need to look for clues! Where do we begin?" England turned to look America in the face, but he wasn't looking.

"England."

"Come on, you idiot, don't just stand there!"

"England."

"We need to hurry! They could be hurt!"

"England!"

"Whot is it!"

"My truck's missing."


	16. The hunt is afoot

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 15

"What do you mean your truck is missing?" England was close to yelling.

"What do I mean—it means the truck isn't fucking here!" America was yelling, "Somebody took my truck and I think it's pretty obvious who to blame!"

The capitols must have taken the truck back into the city. England frowned. But London was definitely not driving.

"Can Washington drive?"

"How would I know? I met the kid this morning! What I wanna know is why they left and where they went, because I hate feeling this helpless." America finished in a small voice.

England needed to bring back the focus, now wasn't the time to wallow. They needed a plan to distract themselves from their own disappointment.

"Knowing the truck is missing doesn't help much, how are we going to find where they went?"

The other nation suddenly smirked, surprising England.

"Dude, if I have the technology to track his cell phone on my own phone, then I can find where my truck is. I have a GPS on it, I could use it as a tracker. Pretty nifty if you ask me." America said proudly.

"Well why didn't you say so!? Let's go find them!" They hopped in the Thunderbird, sitting on nice leather seats with a flashy interior.

"Dude it's already set up on the phone, can you tell me the address?" America asked as they pulled easily out of the garage. His car was going to fly down that road.

England squinted at the phone. "It looks like the Starbucks on Pennsylvania Ave."

America laughed. "Yup, he's definitely my capitol."

Fifteen minutes later, they walked in the doors of the nice little Starbucks. They drove fast, weaving not unlike the Harley through traffic in the sporty little thunderbird. When they arrived they inspected the truck, noting both its emptiness and that it was way past its time on the parking meter due to a couple of tickets. It was clearly parked for easy access to the Starbucks, so they walked inside to investigate.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up there gentlemen. Wow you look just like Danny, are you guys related?" They were greeted by a cheery brunette with long flowing hair, both America and England got flashbacks of a certain Hungarian country. She whipped out a hand ready for a shake.

"My name is Rachel, I own this joint. And you are?" She said addressing them both.

America took her hand with a hearty shake. She was strong for her appearance. "I'm Alfred F. Jones and this is my friend and colleague Arthur Kirkland."

"How do you do?" England said with a hand shake of his own.

"Oh wow, an Englishman, just like the handsome man that Little Dan was with. He looked just like you too, same eyebrows and everything."

England struggled to maintain his smile. However, she did indirectly call him handsome…

"So you know Danny? I'm looking for him and Mr. King. They weren't supposed to leave without us." America came in to distract England from his thoughts.

"Oh yes, they were so cute! Drinking together by that window in the corner." She said staring proudly at the spot. America and England shared confused glances at each other, but she kept talking. "Are you cousins or something? I swear you look just like him."

"Eh, it's something like that, I guess you could say long lost relatives."

"Would you happen to know where they went?" England asked.

Rachel's face lost the smile and she looked a bit angry, and for a second the two men feared that they had done something wrong. They nearly sighed in relief when they realized that her sudden fury was directed elsewhere.

"Oh my word, you wouldn't believe it, some men in suits showed up and dragged them from their seats like common criminals. I was so upset, but I was behind the counter and couldn't ask them just what the hell they were doing with my little Dan. Of course, they probably wouldn't have heard me over the fuss that Englishman was putting up. Caused quite the ruckus." She finished with an angry huff and hands on her hips like an overworked mother.

America had to step carefully, he really didn't want to anger this woman further. She had a kitchen behind her and he's seen what Hungary can do with a simple frying pan.

"Do you know who the men in suits were?" He asked.

Rachel thought for a moment. "I've seen them in here only a couple of times, Dan the Man told me not to worry too much about the 'feds.' I can only assume that they are the Secret Service, Dan said that they follow him sometimes."

England became interested, this woman knew a lot and was quite perceptive. Maybe she knew more than she was letting on.

"Do you know who Danny is?" He asked curiously.

She looked him straight in the eyes. "I know that he's special. My grandmother told me so."

Her answer was vague, but England was satisfied. She trusted Washington wholeheartedly and almost loyally. That can be pretty hard to find.

"Now you boys better find my Danny. He's got work to do and he promised to tell me about his date with that fancy English boy."

Did that woman just call them boys? Countries over hundreds of years old? She was ordering them around like children, but she said it with an unusual glint in her eye. America and England just had a terrible moment of shock, before coming back to the present where they only could be hit with the rest of her statement. They both sputtered and bloomed a dark red, not really sure how to respond and keep their cool. She really is just like Hungary…

"We will mam. He'll be fine, I'll make sure of it." America tried to answer clearly and respectfully through his warm face. He did not want this woman's wrath if she can make him this uncomfortable in less than five minutes. Poor Washington had quite the boss and mother hen.

"Thank you, we shall be off to find them." England was now in a hurry to leave. They had a lead. And this Rachel woman was quite the hardy character and twisted his nerves in weird directions.

"Oh come back anytime dears, handsome faces like yours bring in lots of teenage girls. Especially the accents." She winked at England and waved as they left out the doors. Now that they did look about the Starbucks, it had become quite crowded…

"Do American girls like accents?" England inquired with a smirk sliding onto his face on their short walk to the car.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"English accents?" He was practically poking America with his words.

"NOT TALKING ABOUT IT."

England had a wicked smile on his face when they once again reached the thunderbird, he wanted to poke further, but America silenced him with a glare. England settled for chortling as he opened the car door.

"Can it, let's head to Capitol Hill." America stated getting back into the car.

"Why?" England asked, "Is that where the Secret Service headquarters is?"

"No." America responded, turning on the engine.

"Then why would we go there? Where is the headquarters?"

They drove down the city street for a while before America answered.

"It's a secret."

"God Dammit America, I need to find my capitol and you need to obtain custody of yours!"

"Iggs, it's called _Capitol_ Hill for a reason," He looked pointedly at England, "That's where congress meets, and congress is what kept him from me. And I have a feeling that our capitols would be nearby." He stared aggressively at the road and cars in front of him, hoping his telekinetic powers that he's always dreamt about would kick in so he could get to his destination faster. America wanted to see his capitol again, no matter the terms. He's only known him for an hour, but he felt that the kid had a lot to offer. Like games, comics, general love for entertainment. Maybe a love for nonexistent telekinetic powers. He could be the next American Boy besides himself. Somebody that he can call at three in the morning and explain the coolest idea for a movie or show up at the crack of dawn and take him out hunting. America was betting he would be on Capitol Hill.

"Are you sure?" England didn't like being worried about his capitol, they had been working together for far too long and been through far too much. He recalled one moment in the right before the Blitz where he lost track of London for seventeen minutes. It was the longest seventeen minutes of his life. He remembered the suffocating feeling of his throat closing up in sheer panic and that only made it harder for him to call his name over the chaotic noise. When they found London later helping civilians into the tunnels, he nearly cried in relief. He did not want a reenactment of that moment.

"Dude, I'm about ready to bust down those senate doors. I wouldn't if the chances were slim."

"This is one Fucked up day."

"Agreed."

America drove for a while until something began to bug him. He hasn't known Washington long, but he felt as if he had to protect this kid from the world. Was that normal? For him to suddenly and unconsciously decide that he should protect this kid almost selflessly?

"England? Is it normal for us to be so worried about our capitols?"

England's answer was immediate. "Abso-bloody-lootely."

"Really?"

"In fact, it's natural instinct." England suddenly seemed excited, like he was giving a lecture. "There is so much I can tell you that I could write a book about it. A capitol is an integral part of a country. A heart, if you will. If it is removed, stolen, or corrupted, chaos can spread through the veins across the land. In times of war, a captured capitol is considered a surrender, which is why it was such a problem when Paris was taken by Germany in World War Two. The Capitol may be similar to us, but they are not as strong since they can be destroyed. Since they can be destroyed, they must be protected. However, just because they aren't as strong, does not mean that they are unimportant or weak. Their presence in our work makes us stronger, as does our presence in theirs. Essentially, the government's presence in the country makes the country stronger, and vice versa. Additionally, they are great companions. Better than a cat, I assure you."

America wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. It was a pretty detailed explanation that he wished he knew two hundred years ago, but better late than never. He settled with "Wow," and continued to drive. He could see the capitol buildings by now.

They pulled up around back of Capitol Hill after America showed some fancy identification at the security checkpoints. The giant dome at the top of the building was bright in the evening sun, casting a long shadow down upon the countries as the crossed the back stone grounds. For a moment England thought that they would go in the main door beneath the giant pillars, but America pulled him aside and they continued down some stone steps not far from the building. There were some copper colored doors underneath the stone ground leading to the tunnels beneath Capitol Hill, behind them security waited to check them into the area. The chasm directly leading into the mouth of the tunnel was as big as a soccer field and made of shiny white marble, all accenting the Statue of Freedom that guarded the doors behind it.

America felt a familiar feeling of pride swell in his chest, looking upon what his people have created. They loved statues, and frankly, he did too. But he walked right past it with England following close behind. England took a cursory glance around the chasm-like room. He hasn't been to this part of Washington D.C. too often, and the architecture was a bit impressive. Of course he liked his own city better, it was an older style and he was proud of it, but the large amount of white definitely brightened the interior. He smiled to himself when he recalled that America liked things bright.

They took a few dizzying turns and some stairs before coming to a circular room with multiple tunnels going in different directions and a desk manned by a woman in the center. America was about lead them down a tunnel when something caught his eye. Or more specifically, someone. A man in a suit talking to the woman at the desk. A secret service suit.

America stalked up behind the man like a lion, aggressively turning him around and grabbing him by the collar, succeeding in lifting him several inches off the polished floor with his impressive strength. The Agent was about to retaliate, but realization filled his eyes as he saw the familiar face in front of him. The face of his country and the face that he was ordered to protect sometimes on government trips. The face that he really, really didn't want to mess with right now.

"Mr. America, Sir, please put me down."

"Tell me where the capitols are." America barked right into the man's face.

The suit opened his mouth to answer, but he seemed to change his mind before the words came out.

"That is classified information that I am not authorized to tell you." He said with a face of stone.

If the Agent's face was stone, than America's was steel. He changed his tone to deadly quiet and controlled. He doesn't use this voice often, because he usually doesn't need to. The most powerful nation on earth usually doesn't have to prove himself, but he was on top of the world for a reason. He hasn't spoken like this since September Eleventh. He used to use it a lot in the Cold War.

"I am the United States of America, there shouldn't be a single thing in this building, in this city, in this _country_ , that I don't know about. Are you prepared to tell me that I am not at _liberty_ of this information?"

America brought him in closer. The service agent's eyes widened. The woman at the desk turned around.

"Think of it this way. It would be un _patriotic_ and practically _treasonous_ to withhold information from me."

The Agent paused, inches off the floor and dreadfully intimidated. He's been through years of training, was not new at the job, but the sharp steel of America's expression cut right through his trained walls of stone. He was an agent loyal to America. He guessed now was a good time to really show it.

"Follow me sir. They're just down the hall."

England let out a breath. America visibly relaxed and set his Secret Service Agent down. He looked at the agent with genuine gratitude in his blue eyes.

"Thank you."


	17. Tortoise and the Hare

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 16. This is about to get real political here. Just a friendly warning.

Just down the hall, Washington D.C. and London were in a blue painted room with lots of chairs lined up like a classroom with standing room at the front. To Washington it looked like the meeting room they have at the theater group he used to help out for on weekends. He was half expecting a group of little kids in fish costumes to come in after their featured performance in Little Mermaid's Under the Sea. Washington ended up as kid wrangler and was in charge getting them out of their fishy costumes and back to their proud parents. It was one of the more stressful moments of his life. Especially when a lobster threw up on his shoes. Seafood was hard after that.

They each took a chair near the front and waited a couple of minutes for the official welcoming committee. The silence was a change of pace after their day, it was almost shocking like jumping from hot into ice cold water. Washington was a little jumpy and thought about what has progressed lately. Just the other day, he was only a lonely boy, lamenting over the sudden and fast moving bouts of sickness and nausea he felt at this current moment in his history. He wasn't even sure how important he was, he only could theorize that he was a capitol due to London's book. London is what really changed his life and for that, he would be forever thankful. It was London who found him, who believed in him, who is fighting for him. And he's only known him for a little over forty-eight hours. Washington thinks that's enough to give London the title of best friend. He's only had one other. London did save his life after all. He could've been hit by that taxi, but London did the selfless hero thing and jumped them to safety.

Then that day had changed at the National Mall. It was kind of funny when he looked back on it. London had fallen into the man-made reflecting pool at full speed like the ducks he's seen at the pond when the kids chase them into the water. Even then, he hadn't even known his own country was standing no further than the tree line about twenty feet away.

That next morning the letter showed up at his door step. Or more like the mailman showed up at his door, but that's details. And BAZINGA, he was a capitol. What's a better way to learn about your existence than a depressing divorce letter?

Later that same morning he had nearly been kidnapped by suspicious men in black. And not the cool Men in Black either, it was the 'We aren't doing anything legal' men in black. He really hoped that it would be the last he will ever see those men, but even in the safety of Capitol Hill, he knew that those hopes were far-fetched. It's been twenty years. They probably weren't going to stop after a fatality.

After his Captain America moves in the alley, the events were kind of fuzzy. He remembered leaning on London for support, the rumble of the Harley, and the sweet sound of tunes. The next clear moment he had was talking to London about the letter, and a really nice nap. That nap had been chaotically cut short, when they were woken up by the sound of gunshots. Still, he believed it was worth it. Cause the moments following, he got to meet his country.

The dude was taller than he was, but his presence alone just grabbed attention and power. Washington was captivated by it. How on earth could he ever be down on himself again when he's got that beacon of inspiration? Like, let freedom ring. Capitol and country? He honestly believed that together, they could do anything. But first and foremost, he's got the chance to make a new friend. First he has to make friends with his country, before they can do anything. And America seems friendly enough, like that one guy at the party who's always trying to dance, even if he's bad at it, and then he seals it together with a well-placed dab and the crowd goes wild. Always trying to be 'hip.' He was an interesting dude so far.

Easing their little moment of silence into sound, London started a conversation, startling Washington out of his thoughts.

"What do you think of America?" He asked out of the blue.

Washington answered as if that was exactly what was on his mind.

"He seems like the perfect American dad."

London looked at him incredulously, "Wot?"

Washington realized his mind and mouth didn't exactly connect correctly and he clarified quickly, "Oh no, not like that," he ran a hand through his hair and grinned, "He looks like the type of guy who would wear socks with sandals. You know, offer to power-wash the deck on the weekend. Like he could grill up a mean lookin burger with extra cheese and a hot dog on the side."

London chuckled, "Well you're right about that last one."

"Oh God, I hope so." Washington said hungrily, "That being said, I'm hoping we can be friends. I've always been a little lonely, like me against the world. Link can only offer me so much wisdom, but he can be real quiet." London raised an eyebrow at him, he was beginning worry about Washington's sanity whenever he talks about his fish. But he continued.

"Someday I hope we can play videogames, so I can beat his ass at Mario-Kart and laugh about it over pizza. I wanna see that jeep go off road and shoot a buck with an arrow. Even shoot the Buck from the moving jeep. Do you know bad ass that would be?" He clenched his fists in excitement. "I want him to teach me how to even use a bow, cause I've only done rifle, and shot-guns are way too messy for hunting." Washington looked wishful. These are things he's always dreamed about doing with somebody since he had been cooped up for over a hundred years without someone like Andy to show him what real living was like. His time with his new friends has been brief and fret with constant disruption, but it was exciting. The most excitement he has ever seen. Was this what his life could look like if congress loosens their grip? Washington sure hoped so. He turned to London.

"What's it like with England?"

London blinked, suddenly the attention was on him. He thought for a moment, scrunching his eyebrows in a pondering manner and bringing a hand up to his chin as if it would help him pull the thoughts from his head and out through his mouth. Washington thought he looked like a detective moments from solving the case. Of course the question was easy, but there were too many answers and London wanted one that really meant something to him.

"England and I like to talk. We both love language, all of its nuances and tricks. Shakespeare really inspired us back in the day." London smiled contently thinking back to the times where England would suddenly show up at the door and excitedly pull London off to a play. "We discuss things a lot, trying new ways to play with words and twist them into something else. He really loves a good insult, even if it is aimed at him. As long as it's clever, he enjoys the competition. We also like to talk about magic—"

"Really? Magic?" Washington failed at holding back a snort. London glared with a wicked side-eye.

"Yes, is there something wrong with that?" He said suspiciously.

"No, No, it's just that he seems so serious. Magic is just a little too out of the ball park, isn't it?" Washington said, holding his hands in a placating manner.

"No, not at all."

"Ooooookay then. Sorry." Washington relented. They both jumped when the door opened. The welcoming committee was here.

Washington's eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure who he should have suspected to dish out the outcomes, but he really should have known. Senate Majority leader. Good ole' Mitch McConnell. Washington always thought that he looked like a tortoise. Like Master Oogway from Kung Fu Panda, just not as good natured. This guy was out for party goals, not really for the country as a whole and that bothered Washington, who always wanted his government to work together as one. Senator McConnell wanted to change some things that Washington is. Like literally is. Washington's beliefs are a mesh of laws that already exist. Because Roe v. Wade happened, he was okay with abortion. Because Obamacare was passed, he liked the idea of a national health care. Because same-sex marriage was legalized, he was nonjudgmental with love. He was becoming more and more afraid of what he could turn into if this administration got its way with him.

"Mr. Washington, Mr. London, I hope you are two are well."

"Not at all." London answered bluntly, arms crossed and scowl already on his face.

McConnell ignored him. "Now I hear that you've been trying to come into contact with Mr. America, is that true?"

"Yes, I'm not going to deny it. I have been for a couple decades now." Washington answered clearly, feeling his inner politician come up from the depths of his mind. He made sure to look directly into the Senate Majority leader's eyes. He wasn't going to back down now.

Washington watched the tortoise face distort into a mixture of surprise and disappointment, as if appalled by the idea that the little capitol had been disobeying for longer than they realized. _Not a good look for such an easy going animal_ , Washington thought. But then the senator covered it up by reverting to his resting tortoise face.

"Well, I am sorry to tell you that this will have to stop. Congress cannot allow you to continue organizing with America."

Washington squinted at him. "That doesn't even make practical sense. You do realize that you just asked the government to stop organizing with the country."

"And do not apologize to him for something that you are not even remotely sorry for." London added angrily.

"It doesn't matter. It's been written in the law. Ever since 1961. Ratified as the 23rd and a half amendment of the constitution. We cannot go against the law, it has the final say."

Washington stared. "What." He was shocked.

London was outraged. "That cannot be bloody true!" He stood up from his chair, aggressively speaking to the senator. "You cannot just make up some number and expect us to swallow it!"

McConnell managed to look solemn. "I'm afraid it's true."

Washington stared paralyzed at the floor. This put a kink in everything. There was more to his predicament than he previously thought. He nearly smiled bitterly to himself when he realized that he should have known it wouldn't be as easy as just letting America take custody of him. It was law apparently. What was he going to do now? He started, realizing that he now had a choice to make. Give up? I think not. Laws aren't meant to be broken. But they can be amended. He once again looked at the senator in the eyes.

"Then change it. Our founding fathers made the constitution with plenty of forethought, knowing that the country would have to change as time moves forward. They made it so that it can be amended for a reason. Don't you dare tell me that it must followed as if it was the Bible. This isn't church. That document isn't holy." Washington stood up. "We can change it. We must."

McConnell looked only slightly surprised, more because little Washington just stood up to him. He just shook his head sadly, as if what Washington said changed very little.

"You think that congress will be worried about that in a time like this? They barely even know about your existence." He spoke softly, Washington thought his little tortoise eyes glittered menacingly even though his face didn't change. "They have more important laws to make and change, they will hardly have time for you and your little problem. And you shouldn't worry them over a little matter such as this."

Washington couldn't speak. He had lost his voice.

London's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You've got to be bloody kidding me." He mumbled under his breathe. Was that a threat? Of course they wouldn't be able to prove it, because the clever bastard chose his words so carefully that it could be easily interpreted into something else. Problem. This was a definitely a problem.

However, at that moment, it seemed that their saviors burst through the doors.


	18. Where nothing changed

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 17 Y'all it's still gonna be political. Just another friendly warning.

"The hero is here!" was America's automatic response upon stumbling through the doors. The room quieted for a moment, Washington, London, Senator McConnell, and some other men in suits that he didn't bother to care about, stared slightly confused at him. England kept moving, a storm of contained fury stepped quietly over to London. They would have embraced in a hug, but there were people present and gentlemen had to control themselves. However, England was first to break the silence.

"And why, might I ask, was my capitol apprehended by officials of the United States government?" He asked tersely, anger making his green eyes look venomous.

"Wasn't me." Washington quietly squeaked.

"No, not you." England said rolling his eyes and softening up a bit. England was just stressed and over worried, but he had to be firm. There was his national security at stake from something he assumed was a stupid mistake on behalf of America's people. He had to be clear that this was unacceptable and should not happen again. But he also knew that Washington was not to blame, and he shouldn't make the capitol feel as if he was. Poor lad has been through a lot lately. He glared at the senators. Senator McConnell was first to respond looking smug and tortoise-like.

"Actually, it was him. Your capitol was in company of ours, and Washington is under the government's custody. He was consorting with him about meeting America. He is merely guilty by association."

America was confused when he was mentioned. "Wait, What?" He said stupidly. England's eyes widened in surprise.

London turned to McConnell with barely concealed outrage. "Pardon me? Con _sort_ ing? I don't believe that 'consorting' is quite the right word here."

England recovered from his surprise and crossed his arms. "Please, enlighten us."

"We had to for national security," McConnell began, "Washington is not allowed to meet with any of you, and London snuck past us. We had to bring him in to see if any damage was done, but it seems all the harm was caused by Washington himself. London can leave when he pleases, after going through questioning and regulations of course."

England looked appalled, and London was about to speak when Washington interrupted.

"Washington, Washington, I've heard that a lot lately from you government officials," He said angrily, "What happened to Daniel? Suddenly you start calling me by my real name 'cause the cats out of the bag? You all knew this whole time, didn't you? You kept MY life from me." His arms gestured as he spoke, showing his frustration physically. He suddenly felt as if he had little control over his own life, as if there had always been somebody pulling the strings. It made his stomach churn and he felt like the ground was giving way beneath him, and he could crumble at any moment without any stable support.

McConnell's tortoise eyes narrowed at Washington, but he ultimately ignored the angry outburst. He could have men deal with this later. "Washington will have to stay here, but you all may leave. America, you have some waivers to sign now due to this incident—"

America spoke more intelligently this time, raising his hands to silent the senator. "Woah, hold on there, Mitch, you said they were consorting to meet me? Government custody? And the last thing I need right now is more damn paperwork, you can't just throw contracts at me to get me out if this situation. Tell me what's really going on here. Why isn't he allowed to meet with us?"

McConnell looked at Washington and gestured with false innocence. "I think that Washington can explain."

Washington did not want to explain. He wanted to shrink. Back into the bunker of his room under the stars and stripes. But he could already feel the regret of if he gave up and the guilt from the prompting and knowing look that Link would give him from the fish bowl. There had to be a way to fix this and if anybody could do it, it was America, the land of opportunity.

All eyes were on him and he believed there was still hope, so he swallowed his anxiety and spoke up begrudgingly.

"There is a law apparently. Senator McConnell just told London and me," he motioned to London, "that congress ratified an amendment for the constitution in 1961 that's specifically for me, the 23rd and half amendment—"

America couldn't take that. "What the fuck?" England bumped him on the arm and grumbled "Language." America angrily hissed, "Like you're one to talk," back at him.

"Let him finish." McConnell interrupted, tortoise face looking rather pleased with himself.

Washington continued rather miserably, staring at the floor in front of him. "He says that it prohibits America from 'organizing' with me, or something like that. I'm not quite sure how we missed that info, but it makes things a bit more difficult since it's a law." He looked up and met America's eyes.

America was angry, beyond angry, absolutely livid. There were many things he wanted to say, to yell, but for some reason, all that came out was an angrily punctuated "Why?"

McConnell took back the attention for this one. "Because congress doesn't want you two together. You cannot take care of him, as proven by the destruction of the first one. You are too 'impulsive, irresponsible,' and so forth. In the midst of your little spat with Russia called the Cold War, you endangered the lives of millions and congress had to take precautions to protect him. So in 1961, it was only fitting to cement it."

There was more to it, of course. Congress was unnerved, but prideful during the Cold War. They were afraid of endangering themselves, but since they insisted on causing strife against the Soviets anyway, they needed a safe guard. By "taking" Washington away from America, they were protecting themselves, taking the government away from any dangerous fire. America, the citizens, the land would take the brunt of any heat, of any nuclear missile, of any warfare if it ever came to be. To do that the Congress of the 1960's, more conservative as they were back then, turned to the past and rediscovered America's failure in 1814. It had only been assumed at the time that America and Washington didn't work together, because that had been the trend for over a century. But they took advantage of that trend, twisted it, and cemented it into the law so they wouldn't be liable for war and they could continue without suspicion. And America, for all that talk of being unable to read the atmosphere, knew enough about his people to figure all of this out. They never wanted them to find each other, and didn't tell them on purpose or prevented them from meeting for their personal gain or some larger goal and they had intended to keep it that way. He glared suspiciously at McConnell.

"It was to protect him from you," McConnell continued, "I pity the poor boy who burned in this city. I wonder if he could have done better."

Not any better than the one standing before us, America thought angrily. He clenched his fists at his sides, feeling disgusted at this performance. America remembered what the other Washington was like, that capitol was much younger than the one he knew now. Thinking about him, America was pulled into his memories of the Washington from long ago, memories that he had kept stored in the back of his mind because they disturbed him. America was younger as well, maybe 15 or 16 years old physically, but Washington was only 7, and America had no idea how to take care of a child. So he didn't. He concerned himself with the building of state governments and left Washington to his own devices with the federal government to figure him out. The kid was serious, dry, and uninteresting, he was too focused on creating a new and efficient government system to develop a personality that could catch America's attention span. America regarded him with indifference, a living thing that he knew almost unconsciously would get the duty done. A figure or a doll that would take care of the jobs that he didn't want to deal with, the problems that would wiggle up after the beginning of the United States had settled. America had done the fun part, the brainstorming with his founding fathers to create the foundation that defines him, that makes him special, and he was excited and still is proud of that history.

And when Washington first showed up, he was ecstatic; he was now independent and strong enough to support a complicated government of his own and he showered him with care and joy. But later, as he grew, that child that popped up to do the rest of the federal work made him uncomfortable with its steel gaze and strong voice, since they clashed with America's fun loving style. So America didn't try to interact with him, and left for long periods of time, only coming back when there was a problem that he couldn't avoid.

To Washington, he must have been unreliable, and uncaring, but America never got to show Washington how much he really cared when it mattered. And then America thought about the amount of irony in his memories, a growing trend that left a disappointed melancholy in his gut. It sounded a lot like his own story, the relationship between him and England. England, he learned back before his independence, was not someone he could rely on when he really needed him. It wasn't his fault though, the whole ocean made things difficult when travel took weeks and was often unsafe. That's why America learned to do things on his own, after he invested so much of his energy in his friendship with Davie for it to only crash back down upon him when England took too long. In the end, England was not much of a father figure, or even a brother, but neither was America when he was given the chance. England just planted the roots, like America did for Washington, and let the flower grow on its own unprotected from the weather.

Yeah, well the flower caught on fire. America was devastated when he showed up too late to save the 7 year kid. He felt the burn, deep in his chest where his heart was and each beat took his breath away. It ate him from the inside for days, he wanted to tear it from his chest and dunk it in the Potomac River if only it would soothe the pain. The regret at failing to get to even know the kid only made it worse, salt on the wound. He was too upset at the time to even think to look for the next capitol, and assumed that there wouldn't be one.

This is his second chance. Just like how England ended up being more of a good friend rather than a brother, America has the reins to create his own relationship with his capitol and he wants to do it right this time—he is the hero after all. This capitol is older, more relatable, and he was even friendlier than the last one. But, of course, just when America is so close to having his capitol again, all of this stuff happens, laws get in the way, and he has to suffer some sort of capitol punishment. But so does Washington, because now, for better or for worse, they were in this together.

McConnell clears his tortoise-like neck and America is brought back to the present. He knows that there is something else in his agenda, or why else continue to go through all this trouble to keep them separated? What could they possibly gain now by keeping them, the people and the government apart? With this administration America had trouble predicting how anything could turn out, it all seemed so spontaneous and he couldn't even keep track. Everybody, including England, were keeping silent, waiting to see how he would react.

America narrowed his eyes at McConnell. "There has got to be more to this than you're telling me. Telling him, even. What are you playing at?" He took a threatening step towards the senator.

McConnell looked uncomfortable, suddenly more rabbit than tortoise. Even he couldn't hold himself up to the United States of America. He relented, but not quite.

"Politics, it's a hungry game where you can never consume enough. I have to do a lot to make sure America wins—"

"No, not America, I'm America and I sure don't feel like a winner." America argued.

McConnell glanced at America from the side with his tortoise eyes. "There is a lot more to powering a super power than you know, and we have it all under control. We are going to make this country great again."

"Bollocks," England huffed, arms still crossed disdainfully across his chest, "That is utter bollocks, bull shite, those words are about as useful as meningitis. This whole ordeal could be easily solved by a child, but it seems you lot have to pull it through the meat grinder. It's lowering the quality of our lives."

America pouted, still hung up on the previous statement. "I thought I was already great."

London patted him on the back in a comforting manner. "Don't worry too much about it."

"I am overall uncomfortable with that." Washington added.

McConnell's face went back to its resting tortoise look, and he spoke with finality. "Alright, that is enough. All you men must leave. Washington must stay. You can come back tomorrow to discuss this if you must, but I have another meeting to attend to and Washington cannot leave this building." He gestured to two secret service members hidden among the other senators. "Take Washington to his room, and make for certain this time that he doesn't leave. Good day to you sirs." He walked out of the room rather briskly for an old tortoise man, the other senators nearly stumbling behind him like ducklings just trying to keep up.

Washington's face fell and said a small goodbye, but he did manage to keep his head high as the agents escorted him away. He seemed to bump into one of the agents a couple of times as he walked out the door.

Now alone in the room, America, London, and England looked at each other.

"Well, that was as bent as a nine-bob note," London said, "Now what?"

"I wanna stab 'em in the face." America growled angrily, face vicious like snarling dog.

"No, America, you can't just stab people in the face." England responded in a bored and patronizing tone, tilting his head to watch America.

America whipped his head around to look England in the eyes. "Oh yeah, thanks for the tip, _Jack_."

"If you're referencing Jack the Ripper, I may just slaughter you," England replied, pointing his finger at him for emphasis, "That was a bloody terrifying and dangerous time to be alive in Whitechapel. London was absolutely horrified."

London visibly shivered. They exited the room.

* * *

In the hotel room that night, London stared quietly at the ceiling, contemplating the hectic day. For some reason, he now had a strange hatred for tortoises that he couldn't quite explain. He also wondered about the intelligence level of Washington's fish. That boy seems so think that his gold fish can communicate with him, and he implies it without any hint of abnormality. Hopefully that fish is giving Washington some sense of comfort right now, since he is once again locked away in his room like Rapunzel in her tower. The lad sure is a handful. But he isn't alone, and he should know that by now. America was planning on fighting for him, almost like a divorce case, and London almost volunteered to be his lawyer. They were going to get through this together, he was sure of it. His phone buzzed on the table beside the bed, startling him out of his thoughts. He leaned over and squinted into the light.

 _ **Yo brit stick.**_

London laughed. That little bugger had his phone taken away by the agents and he was still was causing mischief.

 _Wot mate? How are you texting me from your phone? I saw them take it._

 _ **Dude, pickpocketing.**_

 _Is that what all that bumping was for? You have to be more subtle about it. Quick fingers._

 _ **Pshhh, who are you, Oliver Twist?**_

London scoffed, texting with his quick fingers.

 _He wasn't even the pickpocket, and I am a master at pickpocketing, I grew up all over London. I am more artful than the Artful Dodger._

 _ **Ahh wait I'm distracting us again, anyway let's see if I can get out again tomorrow :)**_

 _Like that worked out so well today_

 _ **Meet you at your hotel?**_

 _Just try not to get shot again_

 _ **No promises ;)**_


	19. Louis-Vuitton Luggage

Capitol Punishment

Yo if y'all have any questions or comments, lemme know.

Chapter 18

When England woke up late in the hotel room, London was already gone, and he momentarily panicked. Too tangled in covers to move correctly, he wiggled towards his bedside table and slipped a hand out to reach for his phone only for it to caress a slip of paper and a pen. He swiped it from the table and brought it to his face. Written in neat cursive was a note, with artful calligraphy that only London could master in his years of practice.

 _Went outside the hotel to meet Washington, he is attempting another escape._

 _London._

 _P.S. Try not to panic._

England groaned. Just lovely, he thought. Another day, another two fingered salute. He carefully untangled himself from the cocoon of bed sheets and arose to look out the window. The clouds were covering the sun hinting of a later storm, and England felt the pressure somewhere deep in his stomach. Something was going to go wrong today, he could almost hear it being whispered in his ear. It was pretty loud too, as if it was right next to his ear. Which it was.

"Hurry up! They're coming!" Flying Mint Bunny squeaked.

England stumbled in surprise, "Flying Mint Bunny, what are you doing here?" He smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles on his night shirt as he recollected himself. "Who's coming?"

Flying Mint Bunny flew in anxious circles and stopped in front of England's nose. England had to cross his eyes to see him.

"There is no time to explain! If you don't hurry, they could get both of them!"

England jumped in action, trying to change out of his night clothes as quickly as possible. "You must realize, my good bunny friend, that I would be in better intelligence if you stopped using pronouns and told me without ominous riddle." He hopped on one foot, not unlike a rabbit, trying to put on a sock as Flying Mint Bunny resumed his anxious circles and squeaked in frustration.

"England, there is no time for clothes! Hurry, hurry!"

England's temper got the best of him as he stopped hopping and face contorted in irritation as he yelled at the green rabbit. "For what?!"

"YO ENGLAND, WHO YA TALKING TO?"

England whipped his head around, wearing only pants and one sock to find America once again standing in his hotel room doorway. Face red in anger, he snapped at America.

"YOU GIT, WHY MUST YOU INSIST ON BREAKING IN WITHOUT ASKING FOR ENTRANCE? WHAT IF I WAS NOT APPROPRIATE?"

America snorted as if the answer was obvious. "Dude, it wouldn't be breaking in if I asked, now would it?" He waltzed in as if he owned the room and England's irate eyes followed his movements like a cat.

"Were you talking to your imaginary friends again?"

England crossed his arms, raised his chin and huffed, bristling at the question.

"As a matter of fact, I was. And Flying Mint Bunny was trying to give me a warning." At that, Flying Mint Bunny buzzed in another circle and nudged his face into England's shoulder. "You're going to be too late!" He squeaked.

America titled his head as if he heard something in the distance, but it ignored it to ask a question.

"And what was the warning?"

"That 'they are coming,' and 'could get both of them.'" England said as if it was a matter of fact.

It took a moment to sink in, and then England's eyes widened as he fumbled for the rest of his clothes.

"Oh bloody hell, we have to hurry!"

* * *

Earlier that morning in front of the hotel, Washington, in a Captain America hoodie that was complete with the masked hood up and over his eyes, had strolled up to London. London was trying very hard to keep a straight face, but it had gotten increasingly harder to do so as Washington got closer and dawned a stupid grin.

"Don't tell me that they fell for that get up," London laughed, "In fact, it is probably the most obvious disguise for someone like you. It would have been less suspicious if you walked around waving a flag."

Washington's grin only grew and he put his fists on his hips in a dramatic hero pose. Pedestrians passed them unaffected.

"HA HA! Hiding in plain sight, my friend, it works wonders!" Then he leaned closer to London as if he was telling a secret. "Dude, this is, like, the fourth time I've appeared in the Captain's stars and stripes, but they didn't suspect a thing."

"Then we shall certainly expect the Secret Service later," London quipped, "Off we go, then? And where to, I should probably ask?"

Washington lifted a dramatic hero finger to point down the street.

"To the Starbucks!"

London grabbed Washington's arm and pushed it down, and Washington pouted at him.

"First, you git, don't announce where we are going to the world when you are being tracked down. And second, why should we return to the same place you were tracked down? You are just begging to be caught."

Washington shook his head and smiled, and London became confused.

"Exactly, Brit stick," he said raising a finger, "There is one of two scenarios. Either they think that I'm too smart to go back to where they found us yesterday, or they think that I'm stupid enough to go back to where they found us yesterday."

London raised a brow, "So you are alright with being caught."

Washington looked down the busy streets, the cars honked in the early traffic and more people passed the two capitols on the busy sidewalk, unaware of the marvels standing before them. The air was thick this morning and so were the clouds, so the land around them was only as bright as the light that filtered through. Without turning back to London, he responded.

"Not exactly. I don't wanna talk about the government or custody or anything like that. I just want a break. But if I'm going to be caught again and talked over, I want it to be on my own terms. Make it difficult for them."

London rolled his eyes, but gave a sympathetic look. "Let me tell you early, that for a capitol, there is little time for a break."

He remembered how hard it can be sometimes, when the people and government are moving so fast that there is no time to breathe. In the Industrial Revolution, he missed meals and sleep, running around halls with sweaty palms and tired feet trying to put together some semblance of labor laws and regulations for the workers whose blood, sweat, and tears had gone into coal-fueled economy. Child labor, workers' rights, and health laws, had him shouting loudly over a debating Parliament, and while the industry and money flowed in like the Thames, the laws he needed enacted moved like molasses. But London made sure to meet these issues head on like the stubborn brit he was, while Washington seemed skittish, trying to beat around the bush and missing the mark. Sometimes, things can't go the way you want them to, and Washington needed to learn that, or at least face his problems instead of leaving them for another day.

"However, Washington, you do need to overcome this. Or let us help you fix it, because we want to help you. You do realize that you're not alone, correct? They don't have to be 'your' terms, they can be 'our' terms. You're one of us now, they don't own you anymore." London tried to give an encouraging smile, but it was not an expression he was used to. Washington didn't even seem to see it.

"Yeah, well I can discuss this over a cup of coffee later with congress, so I'm gonna need to get my Mocha grande." Washington said half-heartedly and began to turn towards the direction of the Starbucks.

London frowned, and opened his mouth to berate Washington for not listening to his heart to heart wisdom when a government vehicle pulled up in front of the hotel. Washington flinched, looking ready to bolt, and he would have had not America and England made their less-than-graceful appearance. They both stumbled out of the hotel and trying to get through the door at the same time had them tripping over some poor hotel guest's luggage. They landed at the capitols' feet, looking ruffled and out of breath. England's hair was even more unkempt than usual, America's glasses were crooked on his face, and their position sprawled shoulder to shoulder on the ground put Washington at ease as he started to smile. Soon, London and Washington had to hold each other up as laughter racked their bodies. It was just too funny. The almighty countries of America and England had fallen to the Louis Vuitton set, the luggage that brought them to their knees.

And luckily for them, the Secret Service was generous enough to let the countries collect their dignity and let the capitols settle down before approaching them on the sidewalk.


	20. Let's fix this

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 19

The car ride with the feds was a bit awkward. Because the Secret Service hadn't originally planned to pick up an extra capitol and two countries, and requesting another vehicle would take up more time than they wanted to give, they all had to squish in. There were enough seats being two rows of three behind the driver, but it is not entirely pleasant to be shoulder to shoulder with federal agents. Washington ended up stuck between London and his new rival, the infamous agent Johnson. Right turns were the worst, because the centripetal force kept sending his cheek into the Agent's shoulder, and Washington would pout until a left turn where he would turn his head to blow into London's ear and watch the Brit's face turn an angry red. However, the fourth left turn London stomped on his foot and Washington thought that was a good time to stop.

Behind them, was America, England, and some other agent who showed up on Capitol Duty. The Agent was new and was blatantly trying hard not look at the countries sitting next to him having a whispered conversation. It was especially hard not to look when one of those wonderful left turns occurred and America leaned closer to England to whisper something in his ear. There was a grunt, and when the Agent turned his head, all he saw was America solemnly rubbing his nose and England looking fixedly out the window.

"Who's going to yell at me to day?" Washington suddenly spoke as they pulled up to Capitol Hill.

"McConnell requested that you meet with him—" Johnson started.

"Ugh, not Evil Master Oogway!" Washington huffed and slid down the seat as far as the seat belt allowed. But he did smile a bit when he heard someone snicker behind him. "Of course he requested to dish it out, he's got some secret agenda or something, and he's really starting to freak me out. Can't I meet with someone else? Hell, I'd take Paul Ryan, at least he doesn't look like a scheming villain all the time. And last time he was so tired he brought me some fries and said 'just don't make this harder' and left." Washington paused. "Yeah, the worst part about that punishment was that he forgot the ketchup."

Washington heard someone behind him suck up some air through their teeth in distaste and a mumbled "Oooh, that's the worst."

"Yeah, well, 'just don't make this harder.' Senate Majority Leader McConnell asked for you specifically. We're being nice allowing your friends to follow along." Johnson said. "Now, get out, we're here." Washington didn't move.

"Please." Johnson stated. Washington reluctantly got out.

"Well, would you look at that, he remembered his manners." England muttered from the back.

Outside in back of the capitol building once again, the dome didn't shine quite so prettily on the overcast day, and the Servicemen escorted them into the building.

* * *

They arrived in the same room they were in before with the blue walls and the lined up chairs. Washington was quite glad to see that McConnell had yet to arrive with his posse of senators. But then, the two Secret Service agents stood guard at the door like were on some kind of watch duty, and it was very off putting.

"Uh, don't you guys have somewhere else to be now?" America asked. He understands guards, but not for good people. It was too much like a standing army. And America doesn't like standing armies.

"It's just until McConnell gets here and we can't let Mr. Washington go for another walk outside the building without government permission." Said the agent that nobody bothered to get the name of.

"I thought I was the government." Washington mumbled.

"You are, lad, you are." London reassured.

Washington shook his head as if it was all too much to handle.

"So, like, can one of you get us a glass of water or something?" America tried.

"Tea please, I missed the complementary tea at the hotel." England added.

The agents looked at each other, and shrugged. Johnson made the request through his radio, and five minutes later an intern showed up with a paper cup of tea and another of water. England took the tea and America took the water.

"Seriously, dude?" America said, "When I asked for a glass of water, I meant more than an actually glass of water. Like enough for all of us?"

Johnson shrugged, "It was what you asked for."

England stared appallingly at his cup, "Your service is shite, America. This is a paper cup. Of tea. For shame." He took a sip. "Oh, Earl Grey. Just what I needed."

America just sat down in one the lined up chairs and put his head in his hands.

* * *

Fifteen minutes of awkward silence later, Senator Evil Master Oogway—Senator Mitch McConnell strolled in with his posse of Senators. The Secret Service men took their leave, but the senators crowded around the door while McConnell stood in front of the pairs of countries and capitols. He eyed England and London when he spoke.

"It is good to see you gentlemen again, but you do not need to be present for this… discussion. It is United States confidential information. I am going to have to ask you men to leave." McConnell said.

"Hello to you too." Washington muttered angrily under his breath.

"Wait! They don't need to leave, they have to stay." America stood up.

McConnell looked mildly confused and off put. "Why? Mr. America, this is none of their concern."

"They have to stay because… uh…" America fumbled, trying to come up with something quick. London came to the rescue.

"Because, um… because we are his lawyers!" London added quickly.

"Yes, quite," England confidently said, standing next to America. "And America will not meet without us to listen to the terms. Everything in this case must also be presented to us and all important documents should be read over. So we will not be leaving."

The tortoise looked disgruntled, but he relented, "Alright, gentlemen, then sit down. Hopefully this will be over quickly."

None of them sat.

McConnell sighed. "Washington cannot be allowed to leave the capitol, he is to remain here."

"But why can't I see him?" America butt in.

"The 23rd and a half amendment—"

"Is that even real?"

"Yeah, it actually is," Washington said meekly, "I checked."

McConnell looked as if his point had been proved.

England cut in, taking his lawyer role very seriously, "Did America have any say in the matter? Was there any contract or court release?"

"As an amendment to the constitution, neither is needed." Said McConnell.

"What about the Supreme Court?" America asked, "Don't they have to approve it and interpret it?"

"They did. In 1961."

"But did they know that a country belongs with their capitol?" London asked.

"We have been doing fine without that for two centuries. They didn't need to take that into consideration." McConnell countered.

Washington sat down and stared at the floor as they argued over him. He didn't want this. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for this to happen when he wrote the letter, met with London, escaped the capitol to meet his country. Maybe it was easier when he didn't know who he really was and who he belonged to. It was so much simpler back then, when he was just little Daniel. But could he really go back? Now that he did know? Washington always had a hard time adjusting to change, because usually it was a long and hard process that twisted him all around. But these past few days meant something to him. If he had the choice, would he go back to the way things were? No, he thought with gritted teeth, I wouldn't. Times are changing, and so must I.

"Amend it." Washington said, cutting off whoever was talking.

"What?" McConnell said.

"I asked yesterday, and I'll ask again. Get congress to amend it." Washington stood.

"I'm sorry Mr. Washington, but we cannot. Do you have any idea how many things congress is doing right now?—"

"Well, yeah."

"—They have too much on their plate to worry about you, and it will be too much to explain it to them—"

"Weak excuse for government policy makers."

"—You must not bother them about it now." McConnell finished.

"That's something that I don't understand," America cut in, arms crossed. "Why can't we 'bother' congress about a constitutional amendment?"

Senator McConnell hesitated, "Congress and the administration are too busy. We simply cannot."

America's eyes narrowed. "Busy doing what?"

"Making America Great Again."

Various groans echoed around the room, London face palmed and England through his hands in air in exasperation. Washington sucked in a deep breath, but America remained staring stoic at the Senate Majority leader.

"What is this, brainwashing? I swear, it's just getting weird." America turned to England, "Aren't I already great, Britain?"

England deadpanned.

"Look, Mitch," America turned back to the senator, "This cannot go on, what does 'making me great again' have to do with keeping my capitol from me?"

"Washington needs to stay so we can fix this government and make America great again."

"I don't wanna be fixed!" Washington blurted out, curling into himself a bit. "What am I? A dog? You can't train me!"

"We can." McConnell said.

Everyone froze. When McConnell realized what he said, the damage had already been done. America stepped threateningly closer, arms crossed once again and voice deep.

"When you say 'fix' the government, you didn't mean repair it, did you? You mean 'fix' as in 'rig,' you want to be able to 'influence the outcome,' so to speak."

"Of course not, Mr. America. This government is made by the people for the people. I was voted into office."

"Then why can't I, the people, work with my capitol, my government?" America grounded out.

"Because we are divided and need to make America great—" Before McConnell could finish, Washington leapt towards the door and through the other senators.

"Washington, wait!" London cried, starting after him.

Frantically, Washington whipped open the door and bolted down the hall, London following behind. America would have followed as well, but there was something he needed to clear up first, now that he knew something else was meddling underneath his government. That and the startled senators had left the room to wander. It was just him, England, and the evil tortoise. America's smile was uncharacteristically vicious.


	21. When it starts to Rain black

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 20

McConnell was starting to sweat. The United States of America was catching on, and slowly stalking towards him, England hanging behind him like a henchman and a good lawyer. The wandering senators had scattered, Washington has fled, and London has followed. It was just an evil tortoise, a self-proclaimed hero, and a former pirate. McConnell backed himself against a wall.

"So Mitch, would you like to tell me what exactly is going on?" America loomed over the senator, much like a wolf over a rabbit (tortoise).

And what exactly was going on? Why should the Senate Majority Leader feel threatened by the impending country? What did he have to fear, have to hide from America? As it turned out, he had plenty to hide, and because America knows how to get under people's skin, McConnell began to squeal, more like a pig than a tortoise (tortoises can't squeal). Sometimes being super annoying and a super power has its perks.

Down in a Capitol conference room America (and England because he was there) "learned" from Senator McConnell about a secret operation working underneath the government. A plot, a scheme so to speak, to turn and train the government into a strictly conservative organization. It was a fairly recent plan, started during the Obama administration around 2012 by the conservative members of congress, but its roots and foundations been sprouting and poisoning since the end of the Civil War. They just needed a fool in the White House to get the wheels rolling. And, unexpectedly, this rich dumbo was also a great distraction from their antidemocratic plot. Much easier to look at the small hands than the big picture.

"Is that why you needed me out of the way?" America pressed, currently sitting on the Senator's back, and smushing McConnell's face into the floor.

"No, not really," McConnell mushed out through mushed lips, "I wasn't lying when I thought you immature." He peered up pointedly at America from the floor, but then continued when America didn't move. "You're much too friendly and loud. And you've become too liberal. The president lost the popular vote, which is your jurisdiction as the people who voted more liberally. You would get in the way because you're too likely to try and stop us."

"Damn straight I'm gonna stop you. This ain't democracy. And what of Washington?"

"We need to train him—I mean we were going to train him to be more conservative, and overturn the leftist legislation. He would be more like us. If you spent time with him than he might become more liberal like you. We couldn't allow that."

"Well jeez, is liberalism that bad?"

"Yes."

"It shouldn't be, ya dingus. This is a free country, which means free to be conservative or liberal or whatever. First amendment rights and all that jazz. Just know that the right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins."

England frowned, "But I thought you loved punching things, America." He turned to look at America. "Like me."

America turned incredulously and answered as if the answer was obvious. "That's because you're England. And whose side are you on?"

McConnell tried to move his head, but was unsuccessful. "Would you please let me up Mr. America?" He said through his pursed lips. "Congress will be in session soon for the DACA bill."

"Not yet," America spoke down at him. "Couple more questions for ya. For one, who else is involved?"

McConnell sighed as if it was too much to answer. "Sir, it would be easier to screen the conservatives, some are involved—"

"When this is done you are making a list." America interrupted. "But maybe I should be more specific. I don't think you're the head honcho here. Who are you taking orders from?"

McConnell said nothing, just pursed his already mushed lips against the floor. America shook him in frustration.

"Talk!"

"Sir, I don't know!" McConnell blurted. "I just get the orders through email!"

America let him go with an impatient huff and ran a hand down his face. "Enough with the fucking emails!"

England put a calm hand down on America's shoulder, as he was still seated on the Senator. "America, I think now is the time to go."

America looked up at him and stood, but he eyed the Senate Majority Leader as he gathered himself and his dignity from the floor and brushed himself off. He took a cautious glance at the countries before slipping out the door. America turned to England.

"Did you get all that?" America asked.

"Of course I did, what kind of lawyer do you take me for?" England replied with a sly smile. He handed America a small recorder. "I did not spend years of espionage to come to a case unprepared."

"You're the best, dude." America laughed, shoving the recorder in his pocket. "Now, let's go find our capitols. Again."

* * *

Washington was running again. He knew he was being emotional, probably over reacting a little bit, but frankly he had no idea what he was doing. Everything was unstable and rocky, he felt a bit dizzy, but he tore down the sidewalk towards somewhere in the city. He stopped paying attention to where he was going once his was above ground again.

Last time the government was divided, he ran. That turned out pretty nicely for a while. Maybe he should try it again. After all, maybe he won't be so alone again.

"Daniel!"

Oh yeah. And London was following him. At the call of his other name, Washington stopped. He suddenly felt as if he hadn't heard that name in a while. It may have only been a day or two, but hearing it again was comforting, a return to normalcy. God, he could use a cup of coffee right now.

Washington waited for London to catch up, and finally took in his surroundings. He was outside of the Starbucks that he loves so much in the middle of the midday rush. People brushed by him to get their lunch coffee, and sky clouded some more, promising rain. He could hear London's feet pounding the sidewalk as he got closer. Pounding kind of like his head. Was there another vote today?

"My Lord, Lad, please don't just take off like that!" London huffed. He wasn't out of shape, but he did just run after a wild capitol. "Where are you going?" Noticing the sign, he put his hands on his hips and huffed again in slight annoyance. "Starbucks?"

"Oh yeah, totally, gotta get my lunch coffee, yanno?" Washington bumbled.

London raised a brow, but said nothing as he gestured towards the door. "Are we going in?"

"You're not going to take me back to that meeting?" Washington asked, relieved but not sure why.

"No, that's quite enough for today." London watched Washington carefully, as he looked skittish and apprehensive. He didn't want him to run again. Yet Washington made no move to go into the coffee shop. London sighed, and pulled his jacket around him more. He noticed the side walk had quieted down, and thought of something else.

"Here, Daniel, let's sit here." He sat down on the curb where no car was parked, and patted the concrete next to him and watched as Danny carefully sat at his side, hugging himself and looking a bit pale.

"What's wrong, boy?" Landon asked gently. "I thought you got it all out in your room, is there something else bothering you?"

"Yeah, actually," Danny spoke softly, "you know, the last time the country was divided, I ran. The headaches were bad, like real bad," he gave an empty laugh, "And I was scared, and alone, and—and too many people were telling me what to do, and I didn't even know what I wanted to do, or why I should know what to do. And then out in the frontier, all of a sudden, all the pain just went away. No worries, no headaches, I thought it was because I had found something else. A friend, a family, and all my ties with the capitol city were cut off so that I didn't have to worry about those old government men telling me how to think." He finally looked London in the eye. "But then, it turned out, the South had seceded from the union and a war had started. Now that I know what I am, I realize that the pain was the fighting in the government, but once those men left the government, there was no fighting. Just… relief."

Landon was starting to understand. "Are you upset that your relief led to the deaths of many men?"

Danny snorted, "Jeez thanks man, way to make me feel better."

Landon scowled. "I am trying here." Daniel cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No, you're sorta right actually. But that isn't the whole reason and that was a long time ago. I'm also a bit miffed that they didn't tell me who I was, or how I could help. I was scared and all, but I should have stayed to help them out or something. I was a coward. I don't want me to be divided again, that lead to America being divided. This time I want to be there to help so it doesn't happen again. No more civil wars. Yet I panic and shuffle around the issue when it's even mentioned. I'm still a coward."

"I don't see a coward. Boy, you need your perception checked. An at least you know where your faults are, when I was younger, I was not as… attuned to my flaws."

Danny looked at him with wide eyes, "You?" He raised a brow and a sly smile, "I don't know, you seem pretty perfect."

Landon scoffed, "Please, don't flatter me, I was a right arse."

"Not a left one?"

"Not the point here, Washington. No, when I was younger, I had my fair share of problems. I was greedy, very greedy. I always wanted more money, more resources, and sent the British empire all over the place. It took me quite a while to realize that England left to go privateering because he wanted away from it all, away from me. I kept ordering him to go conquer this land and take over that trade, sell opium to the Chinese."

"Don't do drugs kids."

"Yes, well, he would follow the orders because that's what the country wanted, imperialism. We got rich… but we were missing something."

"Happiness? The meaning of life? An actual purpose?"

"Let me finish, boy." Landon scowled.

"Please, continue."

"When we got to the Industrial Revolution, and he had been away for a while in India, I realized that… I was quite lonely, and yes, unhappy." Landon looked down at the gray, eroded pavement, and watched the cracks as he spoke. "I took a day trip, to get away from it all, like you. Just a stroll around the city, breathing in the charcoal smoke and stepping in murky puddles. I had children on the streets beg me for food, mothers pleading for money to feed the children, men threatening my life for my money. I was beat up in an alleyway—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Danny waved his hands in disbelief and looked Landon with concerned eyes, "That took a turn, jeez that's depressing. Were you alright?"

"Of course," Landon said, proudly straightening his back like the stubborn brit he was, "I know how to fight and recover quickly, but it opened my eyes. That's when I started visiting factories and working on labor rights, helping children, and the like. When England got back from India… well, let's just say I haven't seen him smile like that in quite a while." Landon smiled down at the cracked pavement. "It turned out to be well worth it. So, do you see my point? We have faults as a capitol, but we can fix things, we can fix ourselves. You may want to run, but you're stronger than that, my boy."

Danny settled his head on his hands and pouted despondently. "Yeah. Sure."

Landon threw his hands up in defeat. "After all that, you have to give me something, lad."

Danny gave him a small smile. "Yeah, thank you Landon."

Landon smiled back and gave Danny a friendly punch in the arm. "Anytime, lad. Say, do you want to go look for the nations?"

"Sure, why the hell not." Danny huffed and pushed himself to his feet. And then he promptly collapsed. He didn't sway, just felt immense pain, and then nothing at all. His body was numb, as if it disappeared from his conscience and left a void of feeling with no nerves. Then his conscience started to drift away as if it blew to dust and left a void of space with no senses. It all just blinked away in a second like the television had been turned off. All there ever is was black.

Landon jolted and stopped Danny's head before it hit the ground and held an unresponsive body. Then all he saw was black… a van. A black van.

"Oh dear." He whispered just as the sky started a cold drizzle.


	22. As the sky weeps

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 21

Landon tried to awkwardly scramble backwards away from the curb, and Danny was certainly no help, the limp noodle that he was. Landon had to drag him away, swallowing the fear of the dangerous black van and of the sudden unresponsiveness of his friend. He had been perfectly fine seconds ago, what had happened? And the sidewalk was suddenly very empty, but Landon could vaguely hear yells from around him. Guns. Of course they had guns. They brandished them as the black cladded men emptied the vehicle and civilians scattered.

 _Oh dear_ , Landon thought again.

"What's going on out here?" Shouted a woman. Rachel, from the Starbucks doorway.

 _Oh the hardy sweet woman that you are, please run!_ Landon wanted to scream at her to get down as he leaned Dan's body against the wall. Those men were approaching them quickly.

"Hey!" Rachel shouted again, "Get away from those boys!"

She didn't quite get the response she was hoping for as the men open fired on her little Starbucks shop, shattering the door and multiple windows, glass flying like a sharp rain shower. Landon couldn't get a good look, but he thought he saw Rachel hit the ground for cover unharmed. At least he hoped so. Now he was more worried about the six armed men surrounding him and an unconscious Danny boy. He was cold too, the rain was slowly seeping into his clothes and chilling his skin. Landon looked pleadingly around for any available option, wracking his mind for a plan or for the right words, but too soon the men raised their guns again. He stared them down with venomous green eyes, preparing to fight as the barrel of a gun leveled with his head.

"Come quickly, quietly, and we won't have ta shoot ya." Said a gruff sounding man, mouth muffled by black cloth.

"What are you here for?" Landon growled out, cornered against the side of a building. He kept his eyes on the man who talked, but he kept tabs on Danny's present body leaning pathetically against the bricks.

"Come now or we shoot the kid." Four of them aimed their guns on Daniel. Daniel didn't respond, since he was dead to the world. "We want him, but ya in the way and way too close. Can't have ya jeopardizin' our cause now, can we?"

Now Landon was curious. "And what is your cause?" he asked.

"Shut up, ya dirty brit!" The men convened viciously on the two boys, one thrashed violently, the other leaned slightly more to the side before falling over to the wet ground.

Landon got a few good hits in before the men in black remembered they had guns and a bullet grazed his brow, startling him into one of them. The masked man gripped Landon's arms before throwing him to the ground and pinning him there. Landon bucked up, and nearly threw the guy off when a gun cold conked him on the skull and he saw stars and stripes. Horribly dazed and thoroughly distracted, he watched Daniel be carried over one man's shoulder towards the open black van and he felt something tighten around his arms.

Landon was hauled to his feet, a man on each side.

 _Of course_ , he thought wispily, _they need two men to keep me in check._

Really, they needed two men because Landon now had the coordination of a limp drunk, but they still held the back of his neck as they shoved him into the black cushioned seats of the black van. He heard the door slide shut, but it sounded far away and he knew he couldn't reach it. One of the men buckled him in.

 _Safety first_ , Landon lolled through distant thoughts before his glazed eyes caught Danny's blond hair next to him. _Good, he's buckled in too_. Oh, wait, that's not good. Or is it? Landon couldn't tell anymore, as he leaned towards Danny.

"Please be alright…" he whispered into Danny's golden wisps of hair, before sudden exhaustion made his eye lids droop and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

In the van, with the radio on, the news echoed throughout the filled seats.

"And now, due to a filibuster in the senate, the government has officially shut down from disputes over the legislation for DACA…"

* * *

Click!

The van pulled away from the curb, and a bright eyed brunette gazed out of shattered window of her store listening absently to the wailing sirens closing in. When blue and red lights filled her vision, she looked away from the street and glanced at her phone. She had a clear video, and a picture of the license plate. Fools forgot to cover that up. Now, who else would be appropriate to contact…

* * *

Once again, the countries were without their capitols. America and England, mentally exhausted, languidly opened the Thunderbird's doors, flopped onto leather seats and slumped over, legs and lower body useless. England sat up first when he felt raindrops tickle the top of his head.

"America, you may want to put the top on your convertible." He stated. He received a loud, anguished whine in response. He lolled his head to the side to look at the crumpled country.

"America. It's raining." Another whine and a huff.

"America." A Loud groan and a head thrown back over the leather rest as arms thumped the seat.

"Alfred, please. Put the top back up. You will ruin the interior."

America's loud reply startled him. "The interior is already ruined! Don't you get it?" He yelled, springing up to look at England. His eyes were angry and resigned, a strange yet familiar combination that only made England sigh sadly. A country who knows war sees it often.

America watched him sigh before flinching at his own weakness, and he slumped back in his seat to gaze up at the gray drizzled sky.

"Just let it rain on me. I deserve this."

"Oh, codswallop. America, sit up straight and put the top up, and then we can get somewhere," England faced America and gave a scolding glare, "We have more important things to wallow about, yet there isn't time." He finished with a flourish of hands towards the cloudy, weeping sky.

America turned his head and pouted, only half following instructions as he started the mechanism that would pull the cover over their heads and stop watering the leather seats. The cover was painstakingly slow, making a slight whining noise around them as it cranked and rattled, and America was still pouting and not moving. Halfway over their heads, the whining got louder and closer, England sat forward and face palmed.

When the cover clicked into place, America sat up and murmured, "I should really oil this thing."

The groan came from England this time.

"Now what?" America asked.

England let out a deep breath, and faced America again, viridian eyes still bright in the gray light that streamed through the windows. "We keep calm and carry on."

America's eyes lit up in understanding. He took a deep breath and a moment to collect his thoughts. Those old words never lost their meaning, and he chose to listen, lest he lose himself in despair. Sometimes in all the hate and fervor and dogma, he forgets that he isn't just Alfred F. Jones. He's a citizen, a politician, a soldier, a hero, a friend. He's the United States of America. A little too big for himself, and too young and too strong. He often gets lost in all of the noise, the ideas, the peace, and the conflict. He's suddenly glad that England is here to bring him back down to earth, like all other times. And England is right, he realized, this is just another war.

He pulled his weight back to settle properly on the seat, "Okay, but for real, now what?"

England crossed his arms over his chest with a hum. "How about we, once again, locate our very slippery, little capitols." He prompted.

"Right. To Starbucks." America started the car.

"Wait a tick, to Starbucks? You think they're there?" England uncrossed his arms, confusion written all over his face.

America looked exasperated. "Well, think of it this way. Little Danny boy works at Starbucks, little Donny boy met little Danny boy at Starbucks, little Donny boy was supposed to meet little Danny boy at Starbucks, when they left my house little Donny boy and little Danny boy went to Starbucks. We spoke to the Hungarian mother hen at Starbucks. I think it's safe to say that all roads lead to Starbucks, so buckle up and let's head to Starbucks. Starbucks." America finished. "Starbucks." He added as an afterthought.

England's hands had once again met his face in disbelief and hopes of a coup de grâce. "I don't know whether to be insulted by your tone or impressed that you put that altogether yourself," he spoke through his hands, "Should we trust your hunches once again? You were right about them being in the Capitol Building," he reasoned as he brought his hands away from his disappointment and looked at America's unimpressed face.

"Starbucks." America said as he moved the car in reverse.

And as the sky opened up to let it pour, he slammed the breaks, jerking them both. He crumpled forward, hand gripping his chest and feeling his heart beating wildly in ribcage as if it wasn't pumping enough blood. The world was swimming and America couldn't hear anything except his heart beating in his ears. He felt hands grasping at his shoulders, and distorted versions of his name until he got control of his breathing.

"—Merica, Alfred are you alright? Deep breaths, please. Tell me, are you hurt?" England pleaded.

America looked up to find England distressed face and watery green eyes, hands trying to pry open his chest so he could breathe easier. America closed his eyes as the pain receded to a dull throb, yet his heart proceeded to thump dangerously, almost warningly.

"America?" England prodded again.

America opened his frightened blue eyes to look at England.

"Something's wrong." He whispered.


	23. Blue and red lights

Capitol Punishment

Chapter 22

America asked England to drive, he was worried that he wasn't fit to drive after slamming the brakes. That, and he didn't want to ruin the Thunderbird, it's a vintage car and a nice car. On his beach vacations, he was prone to playing the Beach Boys' _Fun, Fun, Fun_ , all the way down the coast through the old music system. Only he was not having any fun fun fun right now, staring despondently out of the car window as the rain dribbled down the glass. It was getting on England's nerves, especially since he was already a little put off for having to drive on the right side of the road. He knew how, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

"Oh, belt up. We literally just had this talk." He grouched, hands on the wheel.

"Alrighty gramps, chill." America responded, looking instead at the paved road ahead.

England frowned, perturbed but keeping composure for the sake of the occasion. Oh, how he would smack that git…

The car then turned the corner, onto the rain darkened streets, cluttered and barricaded, the blue and red lights blinking and blinding.

"Are those police cars?" America asked, "Oh my God, the Starbucks!" He exclaimed scrabbling for the door handle and opening the car door.

"Bloody hell, America!" England said, slamming the brakes so that the impulsive American would get out of an immobile vehicle. Parking and stepping out of the Thunderbird, England could make out the damage. For the building, it was devastating. England could see that the glass was clearly shot out, the chill in the rain drizzled air killing in the warmth of the coffee shop. He has seen many destroyed buildings, this was clearly not the first scene of destruction he has witnessed, but it was still disappointing to see the hard work of humanity crumbling by their own hands.

But more importantly, the boys may have come here, they may have been in the building when it was shot through, they may have been hurt. He walked towards barricade with purpose, his stomach filling with dread at the news he could receive.

A policeman stepped in front of him, hands out in a stop motion.

"Excuse me, sir, this is a crime scene, you can't come through here. Authorized personnel only."

England pointed at America bustling between many policemen, conversing, asking questions and receiving answers that he probably shouldn't be qualified to receive.

"And him?" England asked with a condescendingly raised brow.

"Uh…" The young policeman gaped, confused by the unknown man behind the lines. He knew that the young man over there with the glasses was supposed to be there, for some reason... "But you… and he…?" Looking back and forth between these men, the cop didn't know how to respond.

Fortunately, he didn't have to, America spotted the interaction and strutted over to them, clapping a hand down on the poor man's shoulder.

"It's alright, Turner, he's with me. You're doin' great." America reassured him, giving him a friendly pat, squeezing his shoulder before leading England past the police lines.

"Alright… uh, yes, sir." Stuttered Turner, confused, yet somehow flattered. He smoothed out his jacket and returned to duty with a puff of pride.

"What have you learned so far?" England asked, straight to the point as they walked closer to the store.

"No one was killed," America said with some relief, "but four people were injured, one male employee and three female customers. Luckily, they are all in stable condition, and they have already made it to the hospital."

They stopped outside the Starbucks, just clear of the glass.

"The perpetrators wore masks, so we have no suspects, but apparently, a bystander took a video from their cell phone. We have a license plate number."

"I have much more than a license plate number, gentlemen."

Both "gentlemen" jumped at the sudden acknowledgment, spotting the familiar Starbucks owner that appeared beside them. America was glad he didn't shriek in surprise, he has screamed at lesser scares.

"I only started recording after they fired," she said as she brushed into their little huddle, "but I think you'll want to see what happened. Now, to be honest, the police don't want me to show anybody the evidence until they have substantial—"

"Miss! You're still wanted for a witness report and we cannot let you share the evidence yet! It's classified until further notice!" Another policeman walked up to their huddle, about to intrude again when Rachel put up a finger in the classic "in a moment" position towards the cop's chest.

"Hush, sir, this is important, their friends were involved. My footage was intended for them."

The policeman was not dissuaded.

"Miss, this evidence is in police custody—"

"No, it's in my hands." Rachel said, giving the phone a little wave.

"Miss—"

"Don't worry, Robert," America, stepped in front of the cop, saving the day as the hero he is, "I can handle this. I'll make sure the phone is back in custody, you can return to duty."

The policeman hesitated, opening his mouth to say something else, but decided against it.

"Yes, sir." And he walked away.

America turned back to the huddle and Rachel sighed, she had a feeling they weren't going to like the news. She wanted the murder the men who shot her shop for stealing her little chickens, but for some reason, she felt it more important for Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland to take care of this. She hoped she was right.

She opened the video and gave them the phone.

* * *

Landon blinked opened his eyes, vision blurry for a second accompanied by the persistent thumping of a headache. He felt restrained, perhaps his arms were tied. He couldn't move his legs much either. It took him another moment to realize that he was sitting, and he couldn't see much because the room was dimly lit. Not that there was much to see anyway, as far as he could tell there was nothing in the square room except a gray door with a tiny window. There was one fluorescent light on, illuminating the gray floor and the off-white walls. This isn't creepy at all, he thought. Not at all. But where is Danny?

In a panic, he whipped his head around, ignoring the pain in his skull. He as relieved for a second to find that Danny was behind him. Their chairs were tied together back to back, like Indiana Jones and his father in _the Last Crusade_. Landon went to see that movie because it had knights in it and the word "crusade."

However, his relief was short lived. Danny had no body heat, and he was deathly still. Landon couldn't even tell if he was breathing from his position.

"Washington? Can you hear me?" He tried, "Daniel?" His voice broke.

Nothing.

Landon let his head drop, his hair nearly long enough to fall over his eyes. This went from bad to worse, it was almost like Daniel had shut down. Landon shook his head slightly at the thought, the feelings overwhelming. They had been cornered, threatened, kidnapped, and tied to a chair who knows where. He wasn't even sure if there was hope for rescue. There were so many unknowns, and Landon was trapped in America's country with his new friend, who was unresponsive. Landon was scared. Of course, Danny doesn't even know any of this.

Shutting down is one of the worst feelings for a capital, almost as bad as a coup or dissolution. First, there is immense pain. And then nothing, comatose, lost in nothing but the void. Alone and desensitized. Landon has never experienced it, the structure of his government prevents it, but he has felt things that were very similar, if not worse. Monarchy's, revolutions, and civil wars do that to ya.

But then again, London has had England there with him. To ease the pain. This poor boy has never had that luxury.

He must get them out of here. But how? Strategy was his strong suit, yet good plans take time. How much time do they have? Anything could happen before he has something to work with, and he has one boy he would be no help, more of a hindrance. But he wasn't leaving without him, that's for sure.

Amid his panicked thoughts, one thing did come through. He took a deep breath and looked up at the turn of the door handle.

Keep calm and carry on.

* * *

England was struggling between the urge to cry and the urge to kill. His poor capital, his best friend beat up and shoved into a vehicle by assailants. But he was a little proud as well, at London's determination to fight and protect. Stubborn lad would rather stand guard over America's capital instead of run. He's got spirit, he does. The Spitfire.

America was struggling between the urge to cry and the urge to punch someone, a feat that could kill. It seemed at every turn, everyone was trying to keep him from his capital. Death, time, Congress, even his own constitution, and now this. He just wanted his new friend. America was so worried as well, Rachel had told him his Dannyboy had lost consciousness before the fight had even begun. There was something worse going on, and it pained him to see the boy so lifeless, like the one he had lost so many years ago. And like England, America was proud of London. He fought for his capital like a true hero and a true friend. He would have to thank him when this was over.

America was also proud of Rachel, the woman had shown some true initiative, bravely opposing the criminals for the two boys. Risking her own life for theirs, recording the horrific encounter.

But once again, again. Their capitals were gone. Only this time, it was far worse than either country could imagine. As they watched to footage of the struggle, they felt worse and worse, blood slowly draining from their faces and stomachs sinking in fear for their charges.

"Well, what are you going to do about it now?" Rachel stated with hands on her hips.

Both countries looked at her in mild confusion, still shocked from her video. Their glooming was getting on her nerves, she wanted those emotions channeled to finding her chickens. It seems they needed a push.

"Get to it boys, you're not gonna find those kids by standing here gaping." She gave them a shoo, motioning them to get moving. England was the first to respond to her encouragement.

"She is right Alfred," England said, "And I can't find Landon without your help. We don't want war on our hands, especially between our hands. You know what this means."

America hesitated, trying to calm down and amp himself up at the same time. Then he started typing something on her phone.

"Alright, I'm sending this to myself, I need the license plate number to find the vehicle's information. I can put it through the Federal Bureau of Investigation to—"

A policeman from nearby interrupted him.

"Oh, Didn't ya hear? The government shut down nearly an hour ago. The FBI won't be doing much until the shutdown ends."

A moment of silence.

"Oh dear," England said, "that's not good for Daniel."

Now America was just struggling with the urge to cry.


End file.
